


to redefine a god

by kanjogirl



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, Memory Loss, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Slow Build, Slow Burn, Unreliable Narrator
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-29
Updated: 2018-08-07
Packaged: 2019-06-18 07:43:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 23,749
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15480954
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kanjogirl/pseuds/kanjogirl
Summary: There had been something before, this she understands.  What she's trying to understand right now is why this paladin's grin has her faltering a bit. |  AU where Allura isn't a princess/paladin, instead rescues refugees around the universe in the coalition and has a run in with Lance, who strikes her with more familiarity than it should.





	1. purposeless

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was originally for allurance week on tumblr but it ran away from me. So, yay, AU-ish. Wanted to get this out before the new season rendered it completely obsolete.

This she understands:

  


The stars above her, glimmering and powerful.  They shine with an ominous presence, as if she isn’t supposed to know their purpose.  Oh, but they’re so beautiful. How awful it would be if they weren’t there, she thinks.  

  


She understands the ground beneath her boots, sure and strong.  It’s not meant for her to stand upon. Maybe. She’s supposed to be somewhere else.  Isn’t she?

  


She understands the color red.  It’s important. Symbolizes something that she is meant to hold dear.  But beyond that, it doesn’t quite matter right now.

  


She understands this odd feeling within her chest, buried deep and unreachable.  It tightens, almost painfully, wound in a ball.

  


And she understands the void, from which she came.  A terrible nothingness, of a numb and dark place. It haunts her as she opens her eyes, glancing up to see those wondrous stars.  The void hangs behind her, like an unwanted friend.

  


She doesn’t understand what had been before the void, however.  

  


She remembers a name.  Someone had called for her, over and over.  It had been _her_ name.  An awful sound, really.  

  


Someone catches her by the hand then, pulls her close, as if to protect her from an unknown fiend.  They’re saying something, though she can hardly hear it. But they mean no harm, she’s sure. Her eyes fall upon their face and she barely registers the features.  Then she’s returning to that void, quiet and still.

  


\---

  


On Laxyn, the nights seem longer.  Amber and bright reds color the dusk, inviting the dark, star speckled skies that are sure to follow.  She breathes the chilly air in, lets it go after a tick, leaning against the hull of the ship. The planet is mostly all sand, hot days and cold nights.  But it’s perfect for stopping to rest.

 

Glancing around, she watches as the refugees settle into the camp, small smile tugging at the corners of her mouth.  The journey has taken some time. It’s been strenuous on both the crew and passengers; stopping to rest on Laxyn is welcome.  Reflexively, she stretches, allowing the black hood fall off her head.

  


“Tired, ‘Lura?”

  


Cocking her head in the direction of the speaker, she offers a warm smile.  Thux. A defective Galra soldier from the outer sectors. There had been rebellion presence and, from how she understands the story, he had been swayed to cross the lines.  It's not the most unusual occurrence, she's told. Though Galra who betray the Empire are often at high risk if discovered. Thux had left decapheabes ago and had learned when and where to hide.

 

When Thux had found Allura, he had been with the Rebels for several decapheabes.  He had headed up the appropriate routes for refugees; his previous life with the Galra offered an expertise when it came to safe regions of space.  

 

Now, Allura followed him on voyages.  Usually, wherever he went, she would be close behind.  Lately, they’ve been daring to pull civilians from Galra territory, closer within the Empire.  While Allura had been campaigning for it, Thux had reservations. Apparently, he had a particularly distasteful experience with Sendak's fleet, barely getting the refugees out before they had to run.   So far, all has gone well.

  


“I could certainly rest tonight, friend.  What of you? Has the journey strained your old heart?” she teases.

  


The corners of his mouth tug upwards at the small jab.  In truth, Thux would be considered middle-aged for a typical Galra male, though that wouldn’t stop her jesting in the slightest.  “This old heart can handle long voyages. Though resting sounds tempting. After the civilians are settled and checks are done, I’ll sleep.”

  


Allura hums, agreeing with the thought.  Turning back to Laynx’s horizon, she breathes out, “After I survey the canyon and the camp’s perimeter, I shall rest as well.  Aran and Moria have watch tonight.”

  


Thux nods, quietly watching as Laynx’s star begins to set, splashing more amber and red over its sky.  Tilting her head, Allura looks at him questioningly.

  


“What?”

  


“Our next stop,” Thux says carefully, as if its a delicate matter, “We have been asked to pick up a few more refugees.  But it is in territory Sendak has since reclaimed.”

  


“Nothing we haven’t faced before,” Allura counters, frowning slight at his hesitation.  

  


“I am tempted to bypass.  The coalition in line with Voltron have been sighted.  It will mean more tensions and heavy Galra presence.”

  


Ah.  Voltron.  Allura understands the implication well.  She had only heard stories of Voltron, ever since Thux had found her, helpless and lost on a chaotic planet.  Voltron had been there, from what she’s been told. A lengthy and bloody fight with Sendak’s flee, one that, if rumors are true, took the life of a paladin.  

  


While the rebellion worked alongside Voltron, the faction Allura is a part of involved favors the stealth over battles.  To smuggle people to free worlds generally avoided combat, which is something Thux seems to appreciate. At times, she wonders if he’s discouraged her from joining other factions simply because of that violence.  

  


Allura isn’t interested in entering battles but she’s not afraid of them either.  

  


“We should help out as many people as possible, Thux,” and when she sees a flicker of opposition on his face, “If it’s obvious we’ll be putting ourselves in too much danger, we’ll leave and come back when it’s safer.”

  


He seems to ponder the idea; mulling the details to his already forming plan, she’s sure.  They’ll go over it later and she’ll take the lead on the field. Simple. “You will heed the order to abort.”

  


Terms and agreement.  He needs her to reassure him.  Allura’s never failed him before, though.  “Yes.”

  


“We will head to the Thyam System in the morning then.”

  


Brushing past him, she claps a hand on his shoulder, grinning.  “The people we save will be grateful for your decision.”

  


He doesn’t respond, so she continues walking off, mentally mapping out the canyons of Laynx.  They will leave before the star scorches Laynx’s surface. This planet may become a good rest stop in the future and she’d like to become acquainted with it.  

  


Or, perhaps, she’s simply evading sleep and that void she always returns to.

  


\---

  


The Thyam System is on the outskirts of the Galran territories, though it is prevalent with newfound patriotism since Sendak’s forces began reigning.  It’s also where Thux has some connections, allowing them to keep communications open until they arrive. It’s not the largest marketing hub, however it is a crucial outpost, which is why it had been reclaimed so quickly by the Galra---also why the coalition and Voltron are present.  

  


Qoscilia is a diverse planet, central to the Thyam System.  Its way of life breeds in commerce and trade. To control Qoscilia means control the whole system.  It is also where they need to extract people.

  


Allura weaves her way through the marketplace, easily avoiding much contact with the locals.  Dressed in the neutral garments, she strides to the location Thux had provided her. He waits, along with the others, on the edge of the cities, out of sight and away from any suspicion.  

  


The plan requires no one to raise alarm.  Allura will seek out the refugees and notify the others.  Aran and Othri will join her as soon as she gives the word, assisting her in taking the group to the ship.  They’ve had worse, honestly. Allura remembers one of her first missions with Thux: they were tasked with a wide scaled breakout involving enslaved people.  They hadn’t lost a soul on that mission and she’s rather proud of it.

  


Her comm’s feedback is static for a moment and she glances around, wondering what would cause the interference.  Just a few paces away, a Galra sentry stands. The robot is a strange contrast to the surroundings; everything is lively and bustling, yet it stands still.  Allura frowns, knowing a sentry couldn’t cause static to her comms.

  


Adjusting the hood over her head, Allura changes her direction, glancing down at the holoscreen in her palm.  She’s close by. Ducking into the alleyway, she reads the map. It indicates she’s only a few more steps where she needs to be.  

  


_“Allura, have you found the refugees,”_ Thux’s voices comes over the comms in her ear.  

  


Grazing her hand over the dusted walls, Allura studies her surroundings.  “Almost, Thux. You may want to let the others know to meet me at the midway point.”

  


_“Noted.  Hurry, there is interference.”_

  


Allura finds the door, bending down to uncover the control panel to open it.  “What kind of interference?”

  


_“There is a battle above Qoscilia as we speak.  Whatever is happening, it’s messing with our positioning systems.”_

  


The static she had been hearing on her comms makes some sense now.  Allura won’t pretend to understand Voltron or whatever the Lions are made of but she assumes it can have environmental impacts during battles.  This is war, after all. There will always be impacts _somewhere_.  

  


Sparing one glance up at the sky between the two buildings she’s positioned herself, Allura sighs out and puts in the code.  The door opens successfully without alarms and she steps inside, tentatively. It’s dark at first but a couple ticks later, a few people step out into the dim lit room to reveal themselves.  

  


“I’ve found them, Thux.  I’ll meet Aran at the midpoint.”

  


_“Quickly, Allura.  This is a hard out.”_

  


“Understood,” she says and then turns her attention to the huddled people.  “I am Allura, part of the coalition. We must hurry to get you all out of here.  Is everyone present?”

  


Someone steps forward.  Female. Green hue to her skin color and tall.  Her eyes are all black and glint in the small bit of light given.  “I am Ye-Na. I represent this group. Thank you for what you are doing.  We are all accounted for and ready.”

  


Allura smiles and gestures for them to follow.  More static over her comms but she easily ignores it as she leads them through the markets and back alleyways to head for the outskirts.  Ye-Na ensures her people stay close but not too much, as they would attract attention from sentries or Galra soldiers who may spy them.

  


Aran meets them where promised, his large form emerging from the boulders and forested area that runs along the marketplace’s edge.  He and Allura share a small smile before they both startle at the sound of Thux’s voice.

  


_“Allura, the time table is moved up.  Get the ships now!”_

  


“What do you---?”

  


She’s cut off by the sudden _boom_ that resounds in the air, shaking the trees and ground beneath their feet.  She nearly stumbles but Aran is there to break her fall. Looking around for the source, Allura’s breath hitches when the loud Galra alarms blare in the distance.  It’s a warning to all people to get inside, for there is danger near. However, it’s also meant to tell civilians to get inside; during battles, there is a high risk people will flee in the chaos.  And, well, this is one of those times. Soldiers will be out here soon.

  


Another _boom_ and static over her comm.  Allura turns to the group and shouts for them to hurry.  Aran takes the lead as they make it through the forested area, under the cover of planet life.  She rushes to the back in case any stragglers fall back. So far, they’re fine, however that could change.  

  


The Galra and Voltron brought their fight to the surface of Qoscilia.  She may not be able to see it right now but that means Galra forces will be out, ensuring people don’t rush out to freedom or riot.  It means they will barely make it out, even when they get to the ship. Airspace will be tough to navigate, especially now with innocent people aboard.  

  


A blast whizzes past her and she nearly yelps.  Whipping around, Allura spies a few sentries far off.  

  


“Aran, we’ve been spotted!” she shouts, ushering the people in front of her to run faster.  “Make sure they get to the ships.”

  


“By Willow, Allura---!” but whatever the Rygnirathian wanted to say is cut off by more blasts, followed by another tremendous quake.  

  


“Get them to safety!”

  


Allura skids to a stop, facing the sentries quickly gaining on her position.  The mission matters more than any one individual. Thus far, that hasn’t let them down.  Aran and the others will get the refugees off this planet. Whatever happens here, she’ll be all right knowing that.  

  


The sentries continue to fire and Allura ducks behind some plant life and rushes to flank them from the side.  She counted four when she first looked but now there are more. Jumping out from the brush, Allura grips the arm of one of the robots, swinging it into two of the others and hears the clang of the metal as they hit the ground.  

  


More blasts and Allura turns, glaring darkly at the sentry who is aiming at her.  She’s never been one to look for a fight but she’s learned it’s a good idea to be armed in this line of work. While Thux looked for nonviolent methods, he had always ensured she had a blaster on her person on these missions.  And that’s the blaster she pulls out to shoot right at the heads of the sentries. She gets a couple before there’s another blast and then white hot pain at her side.

  


Energy blasts, well, they _hurt_.  If one manages to get through a space suit, it means instant cauterization.  In Allura’s case, she’s suffering a third degree burn along her right ribcage and it’s going to leave a mark.  She cries out, crumpling to the ground and holding her wound. The sentries near her and she’s attempting to pick them off one by one from her spot, right there in the dirt.  The aftershock after each shot jarrs her body and she has to fall back from her crouched position to stable herself.

  


One makes it right before her, its weapon charging and a breath away from her face.  It’s not until a tick later she realizes she’s completely surrounded. Allura glances around at all the robots with Galra insignias plastered over their chest plates, listens to the battle far off and closes her eyes.  

  


_“Allura---!”_

  


Eyes snap open.  She has to smile at it.  Thux. At least he would be the last thing she could hear.  Her dear friend who pulled her from the chaotic void. “I do not believe I will be seeing you again, my friend.”

  


_“Allura, hold on.  Help is on the---”_

  


“Thank you,” she murmurs, slumps her shoulders in defeat and drops the blaster.  Thux is saying something else but the interference is too much and she can’t make it out.  For the best, she figures.

  


He had been right.  It had been too dangerous but Allura thinks, faintly, she’d do it again.  At least the refugees have a chance. Breathing out, she realizes that perhaps the wound at her side is actually much worse than she had initially thought because she feels a wetness between the fingers she presses it to.  

  


Allura flicks her eyes up, watches as the sentry presses the trigger.  

  


And then its head explodes.  

  


She passes out.  

  


\---

  


There’s a space made just for her.  Or so it seems to be. Because, well, there’s light laughter and a warmth.  It embraces her and she holds on, as if it will slip away to a void.

  


_Juniberries are the most wonderful flower of all_ , she finds herself saying to no one, anyone, someone.  

  


Its colors flourish within her palm, thriving with life and she brings it to her nose, seeking out its scent.  She thinks it smells wonderful but cannot be certain. It should be, shouldn’t it?

  


\---

  


“---the planet back!  We need an extraction!”

  


Allura moans, sore and moves to cover her eyes as light seems to be painful.  The movement itself hurts and she’s trying to roll over but unable to. There’s just---so much noise.  Everything hurts and she doesn’t understand what’s occurring, disoriented and confused.

  


An arm around her tightens just a bit.  She registers it as a response to her, as if to let her know she’s been acknowledged.  There’s more noise; blasters. Energy powered weapons. Vaguely, she remembers her situation from before but that only brings more confusion.  She’s hurt, she knows that much for sure.

  


“I’ll explain later---are the refugees out safely?”

  


More shooting.  She doesn’t hear anyone respond and risks opening her eyes to take in the scene.  Someone has their arm around her, hunched over as if shielding them from the blasts.  Through blurred vision, Allura notes that they’re still within the forested area. Still on Qoscillia then.

  


“Good, now come get us!”

  


The speaker is the same person holding her.  Male, she thinks. He’s wearing a space suit, as she can spy the black gloves around her shoulder.  What else does she know? She doesn’t have her weapon, so that will be a problem. He’s not a Galra soldier, as far as she can tell.  And he’s obviously talking to someone over his own comms.

  


“South, in the forest.  We’re under heavy fire, so be careful---”

  


Allura closes her eyes tightly before breathing in and steeling herself.  With a grunt, she’s rolling out of the hold and scrambling to get up. Before she can, the male has a hand around her wrist and tugging her back down.  

  


“Let me go!  I must---”

  


“Get down,” he says, not facing her and aiming at the sentries with his rather large energy blaster.  

  


It’s white and red in its design, meant to have a huge impact, she’s sure.  But his space suit is a different color. White, mostly and some blue. She frowns and hunches near him behind the tree he probably dragged her behind.  

  


“I need to get to my group,” Allura tells him, insistent, but her voice sounds strained, tired.  

  


“You’re not gonna get anywhere if you get shot again,” he grumbles, firing off another blast.  

  


Huffing, Allura shuffles to get a better look at their situation.  The movement has her wincing and she slumps against the tree trunk in small defeat.  

  


“I don’t care who it is, I just need a Lion here.”

  


Allura’s eyebrow arches and she opens her mouth to ask who it is exactly he’s talking to but the ground shakes again and she cries out when it causes her to hit the ground.  She’s being gathered up, forced to stand and ushered in another direction.

  


Raising her head, she moves with the unexpected savior and spies something she figured she’d never see: a Lion of Voltron.  Or rather, its claw, having just crushed all the sentries that were firing on them moments before. Allura hums, impressed until the Lion lowers its head and opens its mouth.  

  


Allura stalls, turning to the male with frantic eyes.  He turns to face her. It’s the first time she’s gotten to look at him.  A good look. His face is somewhat obscured behind the helmet he wears but she spies eyes that have a glint to them.  Something lively. He grins and it’s almost reassuring.

  


“Don’t worry,” he tells her, “That’s our ride.”

  


“The refugees…” she murmurs, feels herself slipping off again.  Vision blurred.

  


“They’re okay.  Let’s get you some medical attention.  We’re going home.”

  


“You’re…” Allura feels herself frowning as he slings her arm over his shoulders, supporting her, “You’re a paladin…”

  


There’s no response and she’s not looking at him.  Instead, she’s dreaming once more.

  


\---

  


There’s a chaotic void.  Allura knows because she’s been there before.  

  


It’s barbed, endless and thrashes against her skin.  It means to pull her apart, to pry her open, as if she had anything left to offer.  It’s unforgiving and will forever be unquinched for a desire unknown to her. But she understands it, all the same.  

  


_I see now,_ someone says to her, _I see you for the child you are_.  

  


_But no one can see me here_ , Allura wants to tell them because here, in this void, she cannot even see herself.  

  


\---

  


The world she wakes to is vastly different from the one she remembers.  

  


She’s in a room that has natural light coming through a window somewhere.  She lays in a comfortable bed within a rather clean room, alone. It seems familiar, though she’s unsure where she is exactly.  When she moves, a small chirp comes from the wall near the door. A holoscreen appears, displaying vitals and she stumbles out of the bed to look at it.  

  


The language is unknown to her but she discerns these are her vitals she’s reading.  Her heartbeat is shown in the corner, as well as some levels of the medication given.  Her head isn’t too foggy, so she assumes the medicine administered has worn off some. Which means she’s been out of it for a few vargas.  Or longer. Looking at the numbers on the screen, it seems to be actually a couple quintants, which is alarming. Did they keep her in a pod?

  


Scrolling down the screen, she searches for any information she may be able to uncover.  How was she brought in? How long has she been here? What happened?

  


There had been the refugees.  Aran got them back to the ship, hopefully.  A battle between the Galra and Voltron. The sentries.  Her wound. Allura scrolls down again and eyes catch sight of a graphic, indicating where she had been harmed.  It’s not that bad, thankfully. Blood loss. So the blast didn’t cauterize her; it ripped into her instead. Raising her arm, Allura tests her flexibility.  Her ribs only slightly hurt. Interesting.

  


There had been someone else, though.  White and blue. A paladin...

  


The door hisses open and she steels herself, backing up.  It’s not that she’s fearful of who may come into the room but she’s cautious.  

  


All that doesn’t matter when she sees Thux’s tall form enter the room.  She gasps and rushes to him, embracing him instantly. He makes a sound of surprise before returning her hug.  

  


“You gave us a scare,” Thux tells her, quietly.  

  


Burrowing her face into his shoulder, Allura offers a small laugh.  “I am well, friend.”

  


Withdrawing, Thux stares down at her and she tilts her head to the side with some question.  It’s that quirk of his; when he has something to say but he doesn’t wish to. Usually, her first instinct is to prompt him, however, she truly hasn’t gotten the energy for it.  

  


Turning, Allura beckons him to follow her.  She sits upon the sheets of the bed and expects him to do the same.  Instead, he stands in front of her.

  


“Where are we?” she asks.  

  


“Olkarion.  They’ve placed you in their medical facilities,” Thux explains.  

  


Olkarion.  The home base for the coalition.  Allura remembers being here only twice.  Usually, they end up on the neighboring moons to get the refugees to safety before they’re off on another mission.  Thux has always given her the option to stay behind on Olkarion, see to helping refugees adjust to a new life but she’s always declined.  

  


“The group we extracted are fine, thanks to the paladins of Voltron,” he says, and more carefully, “They brought you back.”

  


At that, Allura raises an eyebrow.  If she had thought she was mistaken before, it’s now confirmed she had met a paladin.  The blue one, she assumes by his suit. “It wasn’t safe for you to stay behind, Thux.”

  


Something flickers across his features, much like conflict.  “I had hailed them. They responded and agreed to grant safe passage for all of us.”

  


“But the paladin…?”

  


Thux glances down then and it looks a lot like shame.  Allura understands he rejects most of the Galra ways, yet there are some things that may stick to a Galra’s soldier’s core.  Things such as _victory or death_.  The mission is always first and that is what he’s told her ever since she stepped aboard his ship.  Allura knows exactly what he’s shameful of in that moment.

  


“You asked them to go back for me,” she murmurs, eyes downcast.  “That’s how they found me.”

  


“Yes.”

  


Raising her gaze, Allura could only smile at him.  The expression must have surprised him because he’s looking away again, struggling.  “Thank you.”

  


“I am glad you are safe, ‘Lura,” Thux says and his eyes cut to the door that remains unopened, as if he’s expecting someone.  “However...I believe it is best you stay here. For some time.”

  


Any happiness and gratefulness she may have felt before is washed away by fear and anger.  He’s _grounding_ her to a planet she barely knew.  Pushing her away because of _one_ scare.  She stands, raising her voice when she says, “What?”

  


Thux doesn’t move from his position, staring back at her.  “I have spoken to the paladins and the doctors. I believe it’s best you rest here.”

  


“I can _rest_ on the ship.  Have I ever failed you before, Thux?  There is no reason---” Allura stops, confusion trickling into her thoughts.  “What do you mean?”

  


His lips form a thin line.  “You will stay here on Olkarion.  When I come back, you can make the decision yourself.”

  


He’s turning to go and Allura feels panic rise within her chest.  She grabs on weakly to his wrist, reaching out. This is all she’s ever known.  Fighting the Galra Empire, ripping the innocent away from its grasps and ensuring better lives.  This is her life. And he’s suddenly decided that it isn’t?

  


“No, you can’t,” Allura pleads, standing up and still gripping onto him as he moves towards the door.  “Thux, please don’t leave me here. Please!”

  


He stops before the door and she moves closer, hoping he’d face her.  He can’t leave her on this planet. She knows no one here, has no ties.  She’s _meant_ for the stars, to pull people away from danger.  He had once said it himself. An nowd he was leaving her, as if one failure has crippled her.  One bad judgement had cost her the life she’s made for herself aboard his ship.

  


“Please, please, take me with you,” she whispers.  

  


“I believe you are more needed here,” he opens his eyes and she searches them for the other side to this conflict.  He doesn’t _want_ to leave her, she knows.  But something greater than Thux, some outside force, is encouraging him to.  “You can do greater things here, Allura.”

  


The door opens but she’s only staring after him, unwilling to go through it and fight anymore.  He’s made up his mind. And he’ll leave her on the coalition’s central hub, as if she’d be able to make a better life here.  

  


“Goodbye, Allura.”

  


\---

  


Days on Olkarion are shorter than she expected.  The planet orbits an older star and its rotation is faster, it seems.  It’s an average sized planet, though its inhabitants had not been large in population, allowing great room for all the newer refugees.  Besides the two moons within its orbit, Olkarion also has extended its reach to an icy planet for the coalition’s outpost.

  


It’s an ideal place to be left stranded, Allura figures.  

  


She pulls up information on the holoscreen, provided by the staff who shuffle in and out wordlessly.  Her wound has healed at profound rate and she can only guess she’ll be discharged soon enough. She’s researching barracks she may be able to reside in when they finally let her go.  It’s only been a few vargas but she’ll be ready.

  


None of her other friends from Thux’s crew have come to see her and she knows it’s not their fault.  Thux has probably ordered them not to visit her, in fear she’d find a way to sneak back with them. She doesn’t take it personally, though it stings a bit.  She can only imagine Aran’s response to that would be like.

  


Sighing, she draws her knees to her chest and stares down at her hands.  Light indigo. The only color she’s taken on since her ‘new’ life. In truth, it’s the only life she’s known, little time it may be.  Thux attempted to tell her the story, what she can remember at least. She had clasped his hand and suddenly she took on his form. Everyone who looked at Thux and Allura mistook them for father and daughter.  They often did not correct the assumptions; it had been an easier story than the truth. That she is something else they can’t explain.

  


If Allura could change back now, she would.  Taking on the form of a Galra female is all she’s ever known.  In truth, she doesn’t remember what she looked like before. And she’s never cared much about it.  Whatever life she had before Thux pulled her from, Allura’s had no desire to go back. If that life had placed her there, then there would never be a need to return.  

  


But now Thux has left her.  And she’s alone.

  


\---

  


She’s sitting by the only window in the room when the door hisses open.  It’s night and there’s no other light beside the glow of the holoscreen by the exit and starlight through the window.  One of the moons are whole while the other is barely a crescent. Ostrone. The crescent moon is Ostrone, where she has been multiple times to drop off the refugees.  It’s the transportation hub for Olkarion. And it’s where Thux and his crew are probably resting right now, readying for the next mission.

  


There’s some footsteps, heavier than the medical staff’s light shuffle of the Olkari who had been inside the room before.  Allura doesn’t turn to look, however, her curiosity muddied by the strain in her chest. Instead, she quietly maps out the stars above, thinks about her plans for the future, if there could be any.  

  


Someone clears their throat.  She frowns, shifts a bit from her seat at the window and looks upon whoever wishes so obviously to get her attention.

  


It’s the blue paladin.  

  


There’s some startlement in her features, she’s sure, for she hadn’t expected to see him again.  Vaguely, she remembers him tugging her down beside him, telling her to get down. What an odd sight.  Surely, he’s need elsewhere. Her mind feels foggy, like she’s swimming through tar. The medication may dull the pain at her side but it’s affecting her thought processing.  Had she done something wrong? To get a visit from a paladin warrants some concern, doesn’t it?

  


He’s the embodiment of nervous, which is odd from where she’s sitting.  He’s not wearing the helmet but she recognizes the suit quite well. Without it, she’s not sure if she’d be able to tell for certain if it was him.  He’s scratching the back of his head, glancing to the ground and back at her, as if waiting for her to fill the silence. She’s studying him, as if he’s something to behold; it takes her a tick to realize that perhaps she’s searching for those eyes with the lively glint she recalls from before.

  


Finally, “Thought I’d stop by.  See how you’re doin’.”

  


“I am well,” is her automatic response.  Then she remembers _manners_.  “I suppose I should thank you.  I am told you and Voltron saved the refugees of Qoscilia.”

  


His eyebrows raise at her words, as if he’s surprised she’s even speaking.  She can’t find a reason why that would be. “Yeah---well, Captain Thux called us just in the nick of time.  It wasn’t that tough of a call, honestly.”

  


“I could have been fooled,” Allura answers, some amusement creeping into her tone, “From what I remember, a Lion had to stomp out the enemy.”

  


He blinks.  Then grins. His shoulders slump, as if he’s finally relaxing.  She can’t help but think that it should be the other way around.   _He’s_ the paladin, revered hero.  And she’s...well, she’s only part of the cause that backs Voltron.  And interesting dynamic, she supposes. Though she doesn’t remember feeling starstruck before.  Maybe in her other life, she would have. But not now. Right now, she’s purposeless and exhausted.  

  


“So what does a paladin of Voltron want with me?” she prompts, shifting her attention back out the window, to the star constellations she’s still learning.  It doesn’t occur to her that perhaps she should continue looking at him, her caution gone to the wind. It’s out of faint curiosity she asks, almost like muscle memory.  She thinks she should say something about the dosage of medication she’s been given.

  


“Don’t know…” is the response she receives and she’s struck with how raw it sounds.  Turning back, she watches as conflict flickers over his face. He meets her gaze once again and something inside her chest tightens.  “I guess I wanted to meet the girl who single handedly freed an entire planet.”

  


It takes a couple ticks but she finds her voice again, having to drag it out from the effects of a sheepish smile thrown her way.  What an odd thing to say, she thinks. “You speak of Feivis. I had not done that alone.”

  


“Not from how your captain tells the story.  Or how it’s talked about here,” he returns with a small shrug.  

  


Feivis is a good story to tell indeed.  And she’s aware of how Thux retells the tale, with a booming voice and a lot of pride if enough alcohol is involved.  It’s a story he tells when he uses _my daughter_ and _all by herself_.  It’s not a story she’s shared herself, though she takes pride in it.  But she had quite a bit of help. She may have led the ground mission to free enslaved people but it took manpower to get them away safely.  

  


Instead of replying, Allura turns back to the stars through the glass with a hum, draping the blanket over her shoulders.  Closing herself off. If he were here to talk about accomplishments, she won’t take part. Not when she’s been left behind and can’t carry out more missions.  Can’t tell anymore stories.

  


“Look, I’m sorry, I don’t mean to disturb your night.  I’m just glad you’re okay.”

  


“Thank you, paladin.”

  


“Yeah…”

  


When she spares a glance over her shoulder, it’s to see him leaving.  She can’t help but think he looks a bit defeated.

  


How odd.

  


\---

  


Her usual garments have been tossed away after she gave permission.  They were nearly in tatters after Qoscilia and she has no real attachment to them.  She’s given two sets of outfits and doesn’t quite question the generosity of it. She supposes most refugees are given the same treatment, as they come to Olkarion with nothing but the clothes on their backs.  

  


She’s readying herself to leave, hitching the small bag of her only belongings over her shoulder when an Olkari staff member approaches her with a soft smile.  The Olkari have a gentle way about them, Allura thinks to herself. They are quiet and soft souls at their core, having opened their arms to the whole universe.  

  


“May I show you where you’ll be staying?”

  


“Oh---I thought I’d stay at the barracks down the way, um,” Allura begins pulling up the name and sector she’s found.  “I have it…”

  


“No, you’ll be staying in the central area.  Arrangements have already been made,” the Olkari smiles.  

  


Allura doesn’t respond, a bit stunned.  Had Thux planned this? She wouldn’t put it past him, honestly.  His guilt had been evident when he left, though she can’t help but feel betrayed nonetheless.  Why had no one told her this before? It may have been only one day cycle since she’s woken up but it would have been nice to be notified.  

  


Following the Olkari out of the room, she’s able to take in the sights.  She’s led out of the medical facilities and out into the streets. Her boots hit the smooth paved ways, passing diverse faces and quiet chatter.  Some linger on her, as if struck by her being there. She understands; while she _knows_ she’s not Galra, others see her that way.  It’s never quite bothered many in the past; being beside Thux’s looming form would often help.  

  


Allura sighs out.  Perhaps it’s not her form that is the problem.  It could just all be in her head.

  


As the Olkari female leads her, Allura’s growing more aware of where they may be headed.  Something twists in her gut when she spies something beyond the capital's building. It glints off the light, tall and ominous.  The Red Lion sits within the capital, as if looking over the people. A sight to behold, indeed. She wonders where its paladin is now; handing out supplies, probably.  Or resting after the battle that had occurred.

  


Faintly, she wonders what the red paladin may look like.  Something like the blue one, she thinks. Humanoid. She remembers small tales of the paladins, those who have encountered them in the past.  They all come from a planet so far away, it’s even out of the Galra’s reach. What a lovely thought. They are a force to be reckoned with; resilient, the stories say.   _Immortal_.  But Allura knows better; nothing lasts forever.  

  


They enter the great halls of the capital’s building.  She hadn’t thought she’d ever be here; always admiring Olkarion’s beauty from afar.  But it’s truly something to see, she thinks. Thux should be here with her, witnessing this.  He should be here for a medal or something. But he’s not. When they get to a higher level, Allura assumes this is where guests reside.  Guests meant for some importance and only to stay for a short time.

  


When the Olkari female bows her head slightly, she smiles and gestures to the door to what she assumes is her new sleeping quarters.  “You are welcome to walk the grounds. This is where you will stay until you wish to leave.”

  


_Can I leave now?_  Allura smiles sweetly, out of courtesy, and returns the bow.  “Thank you. I appreciate what the Olkari have done for me.”

  


“A small token of gratitude for what you have done for us,” and with that, she leaves.  

  


Allura stares after her, interested in the wording of that.  Thux must have spoken to them, asked for her to be given chambers within the capital.  Part of her hates the special treatment. She’s not any different from the others who come here, seeking refuge.  Spitefully, she resolves she’ll change locations as soon as possible. Make it harder for him to find her when he finally returns.  ( _If he returns_ , but she shoves that thought away.)  

  


Pulling up the holoscreen to the room, it asks for her to put in a passcode for security measures.  Commiting the one she inputs to memory, the door opens and she enters. It’s no bigger than the hospital room she had been in before, though there is a washroom and closet.  A single bed sits in the corner with some other common furniture adorning the room. It’s a humble little living space, she figures, but she’s still going to be somewhere else by end of the new moon cycle.  

  


\---

  


By the end of the day, Allura has found Olkarion’s way of life is rather suitable for her.  Ryner, the leader, has established a system different from what had been in place before. A common wealth for anyone and everyone.  Equal footing, someone explains to her. So far, it has worked out for them.

  


Allura finds where she’ll be keeping herself busy: the supplies post.  It’s easy to be accepted, especially when she shows her coalition credentials.  She’s directed to a spot to hand out boxes of supplies and given the sustenance crates to hand to refugees.  The bandaging around her ribcage chaffes a little, though it’s not hard to ignore it. Besides, as long as she stays active, she should be fine.  If she’s busy, she can’t think about where she could be right now.

  


Again, she’s reminded of how the days on Olkarion are quite short when it’s dusk.  Stragglers come and go, thanking her for the crates of food and head off on their way.  Standing idle as she waits for any other direction, she overhears some talk from the others handing out supplies.  

  


“---in some time.  Is Voltron no more?”

  


“Mere rumors, I am certain.”

  


“If the Red Lion has stayed behind…”

  


Allura glances at the speakers curiously.  Only the Red Lion is on Olkarion? Then that means the blue paladin is long gone.  While odd the encounter had been last night, she supposes it would have been better to formally meet him when she’s not on medications, dazed and still hurt by Thux’s departure.  Though, Allura notes that another run-in with him would have resulted in nothing, if it would occur at all.

  


But that means the red paladin is still on Olkarion.  And maybe, by the slightest of chances, she could meet them, sway them into getting her off the planet and back into the cause.  She won’t discredit Olkarion’s noble mission in being the coalition’s capital but she belongs elsewhere, she knows this much. It’s a long shot, she knows, but thus far, getting off Olkarion is beginning to look like a full mission.  The only jobs that will allow her to get into space again is transporting supplies and, well, that will take a while for her to round back to Thux’s crew. And she has to get back.

  


Allura’s meant for the stars.  

  


Checking out of her post, Allura walks the city once more, wandering the streets.  No one stops her but she gets nods of small greetings as she passes. The clothes she wears help her to blend into the main population, despite the indigo skin.  The garments are shades of green, nearly faded and reminds her of the forest outside the capital. It’s comfortable, she’ll admit. Her hands clasp behind her back as she silently marvels at the architecture, golden pyramids and all.  

  


It’s not long before she finds herself back at the capitals main building, tall and overlooking most of the large city.  As people go in and out of the main entrance, Allura spares a glance up at the moons now painted in a starry sky. Thux has probably already left by now.  Disappointment drowns her thoughts and she bitterly huffs out, ready to storm back inside.

  


\---

  


The fourth day cycle Allura is on Olkarion, she receives a transmission from Aran.  At first, she doesn’t bother opening it, curled up into the bed and sheets in her chambers.  She’s going over the shipping logs she managed to swipe from the supplies post, scrolling down and reading.  The language is the common tongue and she’s able to understand some of it.

  


Apparently the shipping routes vary, based on Galra activity.  To get medical and food supplies out, the coalition needs to avoid certain areas at all costs.  Other factions of the coalition will be able to engage but when it comes to supply routes, it’s different.  Allura knows this well, as Thux took caution in their voyages. So it seems like she’ll need to watch known Galra activity if she wishes to intercept Thux and his crew, catch up to them.  

  


The message from Aran blips in the corner of her screen and she’s tempted to see what he’s sent her.  But instead, Allura sighs and drops the screen into her bag, ready to head out again. Making her way out, Allura has learned others live in the corridor with her.  They appear to work more within the capital’s dealings and have more administrative duties rather than groundwork. It makes her feel even more out of place.

  


Hitting the streets, Allura’s eyes fall upon the Red Lion, off in the distance.  It sits, watching over all Olkarion’s residents. It’s odd how the red paladin has stayed on the planet.  Aren’t they needed somewhere else? Saving the universe?

  


Allura makes the choice to check it out.  She vaguely remembers a Lion before, on Qoscilia.  It had been a different color, she’s almost sure. But her memory could always fail her from that time.  A lot of things occurred. Other people are probably inspecting the Lion too, she reasons. Her presence probably won’t bother the paladin, if they’re even there.  

  


When she nears, Allura’s struck by how large the Lion truly is.  She is barely as tall as its claws. It’s something like fierce and terrifying beauty.  Placing her hands upon her hips, she wonders what it might be like to travel inside the Lion.  Her knowledge on Voltron is limited, as she’s focused more on her tasks rather than listen to tales of the legendary defenders.  But she imagines it must be something wondrous.

  


Others walk past, murmuring to each other and sparing a glance or two at the Lion.  Faintly, she notes that she must be the strange one, staring up at the Lion as if its a specimen.  The strange Galra girl, wondering about the Red Lion. _But you’re not Galra, not anything_ , she thinks.  

  


Braving a touch, Allura reaches out, skimming her fingertips against the metal.  It’s cool to the touch, as if the heat of day doesn’t affect it. Must be a material she’s not aware of.  The feeling seems to travel over her skin, up her arm and tightening something in her chest. It’s striking and noticeable but she can’t give it a name.  Something familiar. Something she understands.

  


“Beautiful, isn’t she?”

  


Snapping her hand back, Allura whips around to face the speaker.  Startlement strikes her features when she recognizes him. The blue paladin.  Her eyes flicker to the Red Lion and back at him as she realizes what he’s referring to.  

  


He steps closer, keeping a reasonable distance between them.  She notes the soft look he spares the Lion until it falls into a childish grin for her.  Allura frowns on instinct at the reaction but catches herself.

  


“Where is her paladin?” Allura questions him.  Formalities don’t seem to matter to this one.

  


“Right here,” he answers, gesturing to himself.  She’s giving him a confused glance, obviously lost.  He chuckles quietly and offers her a shrug. “Things change.  I used to fly Blue.”

  


“The Blue Lion,” Allura emphasizes.  

  


“Yeah.  Good ‘old Blue.”

  


There’s a certain fondness in his tone.  She thinks of when her crew members spoke of _home_ , places and people they missed dearly.  It’s a lot like that. Allura catches herself staring, inspecting this warrior she’s only heard tales about before.  Thinks about how odd it is he’s standing beside her now, reminiscing with a stranger.

  


Suddenly, he’s looking right at her with unreasonable cheeriness.  His grin could rival the star lighting Olkarion’s sky and Allura’s leaning back instinctively, as if he’s about ready to pounce.

  


“So, what do you wanna know?”

  


The question throws her off, as if he had asked her the most ridiculous thing possible.  What does _she_ want to know?  Nothing, really.  She’s already asked him enough personal questions and---why is he looking at her so expectantly?  His cheeks are colored, flushed like her being there is something of a wonder. She feels like she’s caught suddenly, having been doing something wrong.  

  


“Oh, nothing, I---”

  


“Nothing?” now he looks startled, lost.  “Didn’t you come to talk?”

  


Her brow furrows at that.  Why would she come to talk?  She merely had wanted to see the Lion out of curiosity.  He’s acting as though she had come with the purpose to seek him out.  Of all the arrogant… “For what?”

  


His eyebrows raise at her question and, for a moment, it appears he’s thrown off by her clipped tone.  His own lowers, averting his gaze, “I don’t know. I just thought you came here for…”

  


Allura narrows her eyes in thought.  He had sounded _hopeful_ , she realizes.  He was hopeful she’d come for him.  What a strange person. First the visit then this.  It occurs to her that perhaps he gets similar treatment, people asking him all sorts of things about Voltron, about the Lions, what’s it like to be a paladin.  But Allura only has one goal.

  


“I did,” she’s saying before she can’t stop herself, hurriedly.

  


Something flutters across his face, much like that hope or perhaps it’s just curiosity.  “Oh?”

  


Tearing her gaze away from the paladin, she frowns up at the Lion.  She searches her mind for the right words to say, how to gain favor with a legendary warrior when she doesn’t have much else to offer.  Since she was brought into this world, Allura’s been given a place to stay; a purpose. And yet, she has no purpose here, only an aspiration to be among the stars.  

  


“I need to find a way to get back to my crew,” she states carefully, eyes following the lines of the Red Lion, “But I have no real means to getting there.”  Then she’s staring back at him, steeling herself for his reaction. But what she finds there is the same expression from before, though she thinks his eyes have dimmed a little.  “Would you know how I could get there?”

  


He brings a hand behind his head, gloved fingers disappearing behind brown hair as he looks away.  “Normally, I could say I’d give you a lift but I’m here for another few days. Do you know where you’re headed?”

  


“Thyam System, I’m certain they are there.”

  


“Y’sure?” he asks her, as if he knew better.  “You run with Captain Thux’s crew, right?”

  


A nod, some hope flourishing where her heart is.  “Our mission was to hit the neighboring planets and extract as many people as possible.”

  


“Yeah, that’s a tough situation over there.”

  


“I _must_ reach them before they enter the Thyam System.  It will be at least a pheab until they get there.”

  


He’s tilting her head at her then, his gaze flickering over her face.  It’s a different kind of scrutiny, as if he’s reading data upon a holoscreen or staring at a new landscape altogether.  She doesn’t change, doesn’t move, preparing herself for whatever answer he’ll provide. But it leaves her feeling vulnerable nonetheless.

  


She doesn’t expect much.  She had thrown out a line in his direction and knew it would be a longshot.  He doesn’t owe her anything, really, but he seems to want to appease. She thinks, faintly, that all the paladins may have a similar quality, for what would they be if not wanting to ease out the creases in the universe?  No matter how small or large the challenge.

  


A grin breaks out on his face then.  That childish grin. It’s almost contagious.  “You’re in luck! I’ll be headed that way in a few quintants.  So I could give you a ride there, hail your crew and all.”

  


Then that ridiculous grin catches her; it has her smiling probably a bit too much.  That hope she thought she saw in him earlier bursts inside her chest. “I would be in your debt.  Thank you.”

  


“Nah, I just wanna spend time with a pretty girl,” he jests and her reaction drops to a dull stare.  He throws up his hands in mock surrender. “Kidding. Sorta. Sorry. Just glad I could help out.”

  


Allura makes a disbelieving sound from the back of her throat.  “I hope your desire to help me isn’t driven by infatuation.”

  


He’s grinning again and doesn’t answer her.  Instead he offers something else, “The name’s Lance.”

  


Automatically, “Allura.  Pleasure to meet you, Paladin Lance.”

  


“Yeah,” he murmurs and there’s a glint in his eye.  Something familiar and she thinks she may have seen that once before, in another life.  It speaks of happy secrets and bright laughter. Maybe she’d like to seek that out someday.  “I guess I’ll see you around then.”

  


He’s backing away then, offering a small salute.  She only gives him a wave as he begins to leave. “Until then.”

  


\---

  


Aran’s message is still unread by the end of the day.  It’s like a small gift bestowed upon her but she wants to save it, despite how it will probably make her feel.  Disappointment is not something she wishes to endure, not after the small promise from the morning. If he’s saying goodbye to her, like Thux had, she doesn’t want to see it.  

  


Instead, Allura explores.  She reaches the treeline, watching as some Olkari move in and out of the forest leisurely.  It’s been said the Olkari and nature are one of the same; able to twist and form the plant life into whatever they ask of it.  What an interesting relationship they must have.

  


Sometimes, Allura looks to newborn stars, the nebulas and closes her eyes, wishing to mold them into anything she’d like.  Voltron, rumor has it, could do such a thing. With a flaming sword and mighty swings, it could ask anything of the universe and it would answer the call.  Voltron could bring about new order to them all.

  


Allura finds herself amongst the tall trees that reach towards the atmosphere.  Her hand grazes the bark lightly, committing it all to memory. She walks, almost in a daze, following her own feet.  It truly is a beautiful planet, she will admit. One of hope and goodwill. No wonder the paladin is staying here for some time.  

  


That paladin.   _Lance_ .  She thinks of his light bronze skin, the dark brown hair, the faint promise _we’re gonna be okay_.  Does he make those promises often?  A dangerous thing to give out favors to mild strangers, coalition or not.  Allura understands the notion of empty promises. Understands that chaotic void.  

  


When she emerges from the forest, she is not where she had been.  Instead, she’s come to the bottom of a large cliff. Faintly, she recalls what it had been named.  Olkarion’s wings, or something like that, since it extends beyond the planet’s atmosphere, juts out into zero g.  It’s beautiful from afar and intimidating up close. The ridges are close enough to be climbed easily, though it gets steeper farther up.  She wonders how many Olkari have trekked that path, seeking the heavens above in the past.

  


Perhaps that’s what brought her here.  She seeks her own answers.

  


Daring another step, Allura faces the cliff, reaches out with hesitation.  Closing her eyes, she breathes in and places her palm against the stone in front of her.  

  


“May you give me answers, Olkarion?” she asks the wind, the stone, the heavens that may hear her small voice among trillions of others.  

  


The sound is terrifying, rattles her bones and reverberates her entire being.  The answer is a deafening roar. It rings in her ears and steals her breath. Gasping, Allura stumbles back, snapping her gaze upwards for its source, alarmed and disoriented.  

  


But there is nothing but the cliff above and the treeline behind her.  Strands of her hair stick to her forehead and she swipes it away, noting the perspiration over her skin.  A cold sweat. One of fear and awe. There’s no indication where the sound came from and that worries her.  

  


Allura whips around, headed back to the capitol.  

  


\---

  


The next time she sees the paladin, she had gone out of her way to find him.  Her best bet had been the Red Lion but after questioning some of the administrative members, she discovers where he spends most of his time: the engineering docks.  

  


The Olkari are all great engineers, this is well known through their galaxy.  Allura won’t disguise the fact that she knows little of the sciences. Moria hailed from the Delterion Belt, where the inhabitants there lived under harsh conditions, having to adapt in inquisitive ways and through means of science and engineering.  Moria is often the one to call if something had broken down on Thux’s ship. Allura appreciated their minds, though had a feeling many took it for granted.

  


Access to the engineering docks is limited, so Allura walks along the great halls that offer a view to it.  Through the glass, she can spy all sorts of projects being worked on. She could guess their purpose but it would all be a mystery for her all the same.  She stands, searching for the paladin in the docks below, fingertips pressed against the glass plane that’s in between.

  


“Looking for someone?”

  


The voice she knows instantly.  It causes something to burst inside her chest, makes her head reel for a moment.  Whipping around, Allura finds him standing there, looking overly confident, helmet tucked between his hip and arm and smirk lining his features.  Again, it’s strangely contagious.

  


“Not anymore,” she answers, now leaning against the glass, arms crossed.  Feigning aloofness is not something Allura’s manage to master as of yet, though she’ll attempt anyway.  “And you?”

  


“I got lucky.  She found me,” he winks at her and begins walking, jerking his head a bit.  She raises an eyebrow, something of a warning. A gesture for her to follow.  Allura pushes off the wall to do so, falling into step with him easily. “What can I do for you?”

  


“Perhaps I only sought company,” Allura says, a twinge of mockery to her tone.  

  


He’s staring at her in the corner of his eyes, as if suspicious of the answer.  Allura’s lips twist into a smirk and he turns his attention in front of them with a softer smile.  “I’m flattered. But don’t you have better things to do than...I don’t know, look for me?”

  


“Volunteer work isn’t mandatory and I thought we could discuss our course of action.”

  


“Why am I not surprised?” comes the muttered response.  

  


“What’s that?” Allura cants her head, wondering if she heard him right.  

  


He shakes his head and waves a hand.  “Yeah, we can do that. Wanna grab somethin’ to eat first?”

  


\---

  


They do not get something to eat, as it would turn out.  Instead they end up at the Red Lion and he’s daring her to climb up with him.  It takes a lot of convincing on his part but she ultimately decides to follow.

  


Olkarion’s star begins to the lower in the sky when they reach the top of the Lion.  He’s smiling broadly and she thinks she may be getting used to it. How young he appears.  Human. He’s the first one she’s ever encountered, though she supposes not many could say the same.  From a planet so far away, in a sector safe from Sendak and all the Galra. Humans seem oddly resilient.  

  


“The first time I came here, we fought the Galra on this very spot,” Lance says and his voice sounds distant.  

  


She opts to sit down, extending her legs out and leaning back.  The wind is harsher up here, whips her long braid back until she adjusts it, brings it over her shoulders.  He follows, sitting beside her and rests his elbows upon his knees.

  


“A great battle, I’m sure,” Allura comments, imagining Voltron standing tall in the distance, among the tall trees, starlight glinting off the metal.  

  


“It was something.”

  


Allura turns her attention to him then.  “Why are you staying here? On Olkarion, I mean.”

  


His eyes lower at that and he’s shrugging.  “We’re building something here. Commissioned it awhile ago.  But it’s just about done. We figure the Red Lion can haul it faster than the other Lions, so I’m here to take it.”

  


“What is it?”

  


There’s a pause, a beat that hangs heavy between them.  She awaits the answer and isn’t surprised when it’s vague.  “Device for the Lions.”

  


So she leaves it there, interest snuffed out.  Her gaze find the sunset once more, trapped within its display of golden splendor.  There’s echoes of longing for another kind of sunset, one of completely different colors.  Cerulean and azure blues, iris and indigo, she thinks. Maybe.

  


They sit together, quietly and in comfortable company.  A stranger who pulled her from chaos, as if he had owed her something.  A paladin, folded and repurposed to serve the universe. And she, a nameless soldier, meant for the stars and dredged from an abyss she doesn’t remember.  A mismatched pair, atop the Red Lion, watching as a day ends.

  


Allura turns to him, meaning only to glance.  Yet, he had beaten her to it, caught watching her and, seemingly embarrassed, averts his eyes.  She studies him then, unabashed, following the lines of his face to his shoulders, the design of the suit.  Her eyes catch on the blue on his shoulders.

  


“You miss piloting the Blue Lion?”

  


“I do,” with no hesitation.  “Miss everything about Blue.”

  


“Why not return…?”

  


“Blue hasn’t accepted anyone else in a very long time,” he offers and gives her a tight smile.  “Maybe one day.”

  


\---

  


Allura taps her index finger against the screen before her.  Aran’s message still glows in the corner, ready for her to open and watch.  Thinning her lips, she wonders if it would even impact her now. She plans to rejoin her crew in less than a pheab, yet she worries for what he’s got to say.  Thux still hasn’t contacted her and she hates how that makes her bitter towards him.

  


Thux stood for new beginnings her life.  A friend among nothingness. In her earliest memories, she remembers seeing him, soft smile and hand outstretched for her to take.  He had been careful with his words, taught her how to live among the stars and risk everything for those who had nothing. Her penance for whatever life she had before this.  

  


She closes the screen with a sigh and heads for the supplies post.  

  


\---

  


It’s not like she wishes to be back here.  She had followed her feet, listlessly strolling through the trees and found herself in front of the cliff once more.   It’s odd and pulls at her, like a string attached to her heart until she relents.

  


Her fingers graze the stone, breathing in deeply.  

  


The roar echoes around, shaking her but she holds steadfast, keeping her bare palm against the cold stone.  She closes her eyes tightly, willing for it to offer more. Anything.

  


Something flashes through her mind.  It washes over her like cold water and she feels herself shivering.  She feels bare, exposed to whatever the elements have to throw at her.  Images she doesn’t recognize flutter behind her eyelids.

  


Stepping back, Allura gazes up at the endless cliff and murmurs, “What have you to offer me, Olkarion?”

  


When she turns to leave, she swears she hears growls as a reply.  

  


\---

  


“How did the Red Lion pick you?”

  


The question seems to throw him off.  His shoulders tense at it, as if she’s asking too personal of a question.  After a moment, he breathes out and there’s a shrug. “Red called for me. We were in a tight spot.  Our team had some tough breaks and we all had to change a little. I changed enough for Red.”

  


Allura thins her lips, wondering about their other conversation.  He spoke of the Blue Lion as if missing a dear friend. She understands that feeling now.  Missing the stars, her crew, her purpose. She wonders if that is what he must have felt when the Blue Lion let him go.  Abandonment, left with nothing more than a blank space.

  


“You cannot form Voltron,” she states because it’s true.  

  


The battle on Qoscilia hadn’t been between Voltron and the Galra Empire.  It had been between a Galra fleet and the Lions. The rumors of a paladin’s death had been true all along.  The paladins were stretched thin.

  


He doesn’t react, a mask she knows well.  He’s an expressive individual but he’s able to rid emotions when it counts, apparently.  He gets up instead with a sigh and holds out a hand for her. “We should get some rest.”

  


She doesn’t take his hand.  Instead she leaves without a word, leaving the paladin and Red Lion behind her, wishing him a soft good night over her shoulder.  If she would have looked, Allura thinks she would have seen his disappointment.

  


\---

  


Three more quintants before they leave.  He finds her at the supply post, handing out crates to new refugees.  It’s a different situation, as she is often the one to seek him out. Now he’s out among the people, looking just for her.  He’s wearing that grin, lively and cheerful. Allura narrows her eyes at him on instinct, expecting bad news.

  


“Just wanted to see ya,” Lance tells her as he takes a crate from her, hands it off to someone else.  

  


“Is that all, Paladin Lance?” she says with mock formality, feeling the eyes of other volunteers upon them.  “Nothing else?”  
  
  
“Maybe I wanted to grab lunch with you,” he offers, “Since we’re gonna be spending a lot of time together and all.”

  


“Is that your reasoning?”  Allura throws a smirk in his general direction as she picks up another crate.  

  


He’s got feigned offense on his face, though he’s laughing a tick later.  “You’re gonna make fun of me the whole trip, aren’t you?”

  


“Endlessly,” Allura answers with a grin.  

  


He’s scratching that spot in back of his head.  That nervous gesture. “Where’d you come from, Allura?”

  


_The stars,_ she wants to say.

  


\---

  


He’ll stop by, eat something with her and talk about some adventures he’s had recently.  She shares experiences with him, revealing more about Feivis and admitting she had never felt more alive and scared all at once.  

  


He laughs probably too loudly at her jabs at his character and she tries twisting her lips to stop from smiling at his terrible jokes.  In truth, he’s the only one who sits with her on this planet. And she’s realizing that, maybe, she’s the only one who sits with him too.  They’re both lonely here, longing for company and not quite able to fit together.

  


Lance speaks of his teammates.  How he had known one of them, the yellow paladin, longer than the rest.  He speaks of the red paladin, of his hero from childhood and of the green paladin.  There’s so much pride his voice when he talks about them; of space pets and of a goofy man with a mustache.  He talks about merpeople and ice skating.

  


“They’d like you,” Lance remarks.  “You’d love them too.”

  


She doesn’t disagree.  

  


\---

  


“Have you been to the cliffs of Olkarion?”  Allura asks him.

  


It’s the night before they depart.  She’s made preparations for it, stuffing whatever she’s deemed important enough into the small satchel she carries.  It lays on her bed, ready to go at a moment’s notice. But instead of being on that very bed, she’s leaning against the Red Lion’s claw with him.  What a strange gravity he’s gradually had on her. She wonders if she had pulled him into orbit that first night, when he came to her in the medical facility.  Neutron stars, orbiting each other in a peculiar dependency, however temporary.

  


It won’t matter when he drops her off, though.  The comradery will cease as soon as she steps aboard Thux’s ship, ready to carry on the life she’s ever known.  It would be a nice tale to tell, she thinks. The one time she got to know a paladin of Voltron, a warrior of the universe.  Unbelievable but true.

  


His head cants in the direction of the cliffs with some interest, looking back at her.  “Once. But that was a while ago.”

  


“Has it ever spoken to you?”

  


“Spoken?  Like, as in, actually talking?” his voice dips into disbelief.  

  


Usually, Allura would drop it but they depart in the morning.  He’s the only friend she has on this rock and she wants a witness to this.   _Friend_ may be a reach.  Perhaps companion is a better term for him.  With a huff, Allura takes his wrist in her hand, tugging on him.  He’s protesting, not really saying words but pulling against her uselessly.  

  


“Here, let me show you.”

  


He stops resisting after that and falls into step with her as she navigates them through the trees.  She drops his wrist, his warmth lingering within her palm. They move through the forest, quietly and her fingertips graze the bark of trunks once again.  Her eyes flutter shut and she asks for the path that led her before.

  


Her feet move and she feels him beside her, oddly silent.  Before long, they stand between the treeline and the bottom of the cliffs.  She spares a glance at him but he’s staring upwards, fixed on a certain point she cannot discern.  Reaching out, Allura breathes out.

  


“Watch,” she murmurs to him.  

  


Skin against stone, she closes her eyes.  

  


The roar comes a tick later, surrounding them and she nearly topples back.  It’s louder than before, rendering her breathless. Snapping her hand away, she turns to him.  

  


“It speaks,” Allura tells him.  

  


His eyes are wide, as if he’s scared or stunned.  She can’t tell. He’s looking up, as if he sees something she doesn’t and slowly turns his gaze to her.  “No way…”

  


Allura decides what she’ll do right there.  She’s not crazy. Someone else can see it. And she’s going to climb this cliff.  “Come, I need to know what it is.”

  


“Wait, Allura---I don’t think---”

  


“Have you no courage now, Paladin Lance?” she throws a smirk over her shoulder as she begins to scale the cliff.  “Does the Red Lion choose those of caution?”

  


The challenge shows on his features and he’s quick to grin back, accepting her dare.  He begins climbing with her. “Not a chance.”

  


She’s laughing, suddenly so full of life as she pushes herself upwards.  There had been a single question thrown out to the wind and _something_ answered her.  She means to find what it means, this last night on Olkarion.  Excitement flitters within her blood and her cheeks flush with a newfound purpose.  

  


When Allura glances at him, he’s grinning.  At _her_.  It strikes her more than it should, really.  It sends sparks over her skin, like the beginnings of wildfire and she doesn’t bother snuffing it out.  The burst of new adventure finds her tossing all previous safeguards away. She wants to tell him then that he’s got a wonderful smile, that he should do that more often but throws the thought away, focusing on her task.  

  


They get to a ledge some time later and he’s complaining about how they could have just used Red to get here.  But she’s still running on elation when they get there. It’s not just a ledge---it’s a _cave_.  The night and two moons in the sky doesn’t offer much light to inspect it but she has a feeling they won’t need it.  

  


“This is it,” she tells him, looking out over the forest, far enough above to see the capital itself.  “I can feel it.”

  


“Allura,” he grunts out, barely able to pull himself up and she grips the collar of his suit to drag him up with her.  “Thanks. Allura, I don’t---”

  


“This is where we’re supposed to be,” she affirms and turns to the dark cave behind them.  “I know it.”

  


“Allura,” he tries again and she truly doesn’t understand _why_.  “I don’t want you to exp---”

  


But she’s walking off and he hears him sigh.  He’s only a couple steps behind her when she narrows her eyes, adjusting her sight to the darkness.  Something tugs inside her. That string attached to her heart. _Follow, follow, follow---_

  


“I think...something is here…” she murmurs and falls completely silent when they round a bend in the cave.  

  


The glow of the barrier gives enough light to see exactly what that something is.  A soft gasp escapes her, an echo of the sound bouncing off the walls of the cave.

  


The Blue Lion sits before them, cyan barrier surrounding it.  

  


As she approaches, she feels Lance’s hand fall upon her shoulder, like a warning.  She pauses to look at him with interest, mingled with the awe. “We shouldn’t be here.”

  


It takes her a few ticks, but it dawns upon her.  His resistance, the idea of Olkarion being a central hub, the missing Blue Lion, Voltron’s disappearance, his attachment to the Lion.  The Blue Lion had been placed here for a reason, as if tucked away to honor its paladin.

  


“You put it here,” Allura tells him and it’s not a question.  He averts his gaze and his hand falls to his side. “Her paladin was lost and you buried the Blue Lion.  Like a grave.”

  


“No…” he struggles to say but she doesn’t give him the chance to find his words.  

  


Standing before the barrier, Allura wonders at the beauty.  It’s truly something to behold, larger than the Red Lion. Bulkier.  It sits with a hollow pride, as if it had been lost. Allura reaches out, indigo fingers ready to skim the barrier’s surface.  A gentle hand stops her, holding her back. Lance.

  


He looks determined, protective over something that is not his.  Allura thins her lips and tears her hand away from his. She understands; the Blue Lion had been a part of him, part of someone dear to him, now lost and only to be remembered.  For someone new to trespass the memory is like a betrayal, a deep intrusion.

  


And yet---

  


“What have you called me for?” she asks the Lion.  

  


Before he can stop her again, Allura places her hand flat against the barrier.  It bursts with new life before them, blue sparks flying out and she shields her face.  When nothing seems to touch her, she lowers her arms, peeking right before there’s a loud sound of metal moving.  Fear strikes her as the Lion shifts and there is nothing separating them, barrier now dissipating in the air they breathe.  

  


Allura stumbles back with Lance as the Lion crouches and she can only stare.  A scream catches in her throat as it opens its mouth and a platform rolls out, meant to enter.  She blinks, glancing around with disbelief.

  


It hadn’t been Olkarion.  It had been the Blue Lion answering her call.  

  


_Meant to be among the stars._

  


“I can’t believe it…” Lance murmurs, looking between her and the Lion.  

  


\---

  


“Allura, please think about this.”

  


She _is_ thinking about this.  It’s all she can do to keep it from consuming her.  The cockpit of the Blue Lion flickers to life as she walks inside, hands grazing over the panels and seat meant for one.  Excitement grips her very being, as if it’s all she breathes in.

  


And she can’t stop grinning.  

  


The Blue Lion accepted _her_ .  A piece of Voltron, only those meant of greatness, has accepted her.  It’s what called her when she awoke on Olkarion, when she travelled with Thux, that small call through the cosmos.   _Meant for the stars_.  This is what tugged at something buried deep within her.  

  


“Allura…”

  


His voice dips into something solemn and she has to look at him then.  Seriousness is etched within every feature of his face, something that comes from a painful memory, she’s sure.  

  


_Blue hasn’t accepted anyone else in a very long time._

  


It occurs to her that he hadn’t wanted Blue to accept anyone.  Perhaps not anyone else but him or his fallen friend. He probably feels as if the Blue Lion has betrayed him in some fashion, turning away from the past paladins who once piloted her.  There’s clear conflict across his face, as if he’s fighting to keep it at bay. Her shoulders fall with some resignation at it, that she could not share this with him.

  


She reaches out, catches his gloved hand within hers, carefully and lightly.  He’s staring at her, some startlement displayed in his eyes. He doesn’t pull away and, with some surprise, he steps closer.  For a moment, there’s an instinct to move away, as if it’s too close, breeding a familiarity she cannot name.

  


Then, “Lance---if I may…”

  


“No,” he says and she feels rejection settle in the bottom of her stomach.  He shakes his head and then he’s smiling softly. “She chose you. Let’s see how you two fly.”

  


Blue sings to new life and she can _hear_ the song.  She’s grinning and bouncing on her feet, engulfing him in a tight hug.  He makes an indignant sound, something about not breathing but she doesn’t let go.  Not just yet. Hugging this person she’s only met a few quintants ago, as if they were friends in another life, born to share this.  

  


When she does let him go, she’s at the controls and he’s gripping the seat behind.  “Let us fly then.”

  


It could have gone better, honestly.  The Olkari probably had heart attacks when the Blue Lion came bursting out of the cliff, among rubble and dust.  Lance is yelling something at her but she’s laughing too loudly to hear, allowing the Blue Lion take them to the atmosphere.  

  


They soar upwards, to the stars where she belongs.  


	2. deserving

“As far as first flights go, I’ve seen worse.”  

  
  


Allura nudges him with her shoulder and he makes a wounded sound as she passes him.  Pride swells in her chest as they make their way to the two Lions near the engineering docks.  Morning has come and, with it, there is new promise. 

  
  


He’s next to her as they stand at the edge of the docks.  Finally, she sees what the device the members of Voltron have commissioned: it’s large and circular.  It’s rather massive and she thinks it has something to do with the Lions themselves. She doesn’t ask what it’s meant for, opting to wait until he actually tells her.  With the recent events, Allura knows Lance is trying not to overwhelm her with information all at once. They’ll have that time later. 

  
  


The plan is for Lance to carry the shipment with Red still, though Allura will travel beside him, accompanying him in the Blue Lion.  Just a slight change of plans. Lance hasn’t said much about what the connection between her and the Lion means. She thinks there’s probably someone else among the paladins who are better fitted for such discussions.  He’s trying his best, she knows. And she’s simply along for the ride now. 

  
  


Ever since her first flight with Blue, he’ll avoid her eyes at times.  It’s not anything like he’s ashamed or disappointed, she thinks. It’s because she’s caught him staring too much.  Allura knows because she’s been staring too, probably too expectant, waiting for what’s next in this unpredictable journey.  But when he  _ does  _ look at her, there’s some wonder, something with intensity that he barely masks.  

  
  


“You ready?”

  
  


Allura grins at him.  “Quite.”

  
  


\---

  
  


While Allura is used to long distance voyages, she’s discovering being within one of the Lions is far different.  It’s lonely, despite the Blue Lion’s overwhelming presence. If Lance hadn’t popped up on her screen every other varga, she would have gotten a little stir crazy.  He checks in, asks her how she’s holding up, talks about random subjects and attempts to give her pointers. 

  
  


The strange thing is that it feels as if she already knows what to do.  The Blue Lion seems to guide her, understanding her position. The Blue Lion has a gentle way about it, calming guiding her to the right controls and Allura allows it, opening herself to a force that’s much greater than she could have imagined.  

  
  


In another life, perhaps she had been a paladin as well.  

  
  


The thought ruptures something in her chest, has her catching her breath.   _ She’s _ a paladin.  Not by any rite given to her but she had passed a test of sorts.  Lance had to bare witness to it and, after they flew together that first time, he hadn’t questioned it further.  He had tossed any doubt away and looked at her with something like admiration. She would hold onto that, cherish it.  

  
  


_ “You doin’ okay?”  _  Lance pops up on her screen.  

  
  


She nods and flicks her eyes forward, watching as they pass the stars.  “It will still be some time before we reach the Thyam System. Will we be stopping?”

  
  


_ “Eventually, yeah.  It’d be nice to wormhole our way back but...well, we have to do it the hard way.” _

  
  


Wormholes.  She had heard of the idea.  An ancient magic used by the long deceased race of Alteans.  It’s a shame such an efficient way of travel has been lost, though no one would find her complaining.  She’s piloting the  _ Blue Lion _ , she’s quite all right with their present situation.  

  
  


_ “So, uh, I wanted to talk about what might happen when we get there.” _

  
  


She glances back to his screen.  “What do you mean?”

  
  


He’s not quite looking at her, eyes anywhere else.  _  “Look, Allura.  The Blue Lion chose you.  When we put Blue on Olkarion, we had given up looking for another paladin.  Now that she has one...well, we might stand a chance against Sendak.” _

  
  


“Oh,” is all she can truly say.  

  
  


She hadn’t thought about it.  Honestly, she couldn’t wait to show Thux and the rest.  Couldn’t wait to fly the Blue Lion among nebulas and graze past supernovas.  The idea of being part of another team impacts her harder than it probably should.  They’ll end up dropping off the shipment, meet up with his group and, if she’s lucky, get to visit Thux.  

  
  


Allura closes her eyes, resolving herself.  She’s part of something greater now.  _ This _ is what she had desired: a purpose.  Having been left on Olkarion had shaken her, leaving her bare with nothing else but a lone paladin and listless words.  She could do this. She  _ should  _ do this.

  
  


But what if she wasn’t accepted?  Her hands drifted down to her lap.  Her black space suit covered what’s underneath: a facade.  Indigo skin that isn’t even hers. The Blue Lion had welcomed her but who was she replacing?  Had they been loved? Mourned? And what if the Blue Lion only accepted her for a short time, like it had Lance?  

  
  


_ “We can talk about it later,” _ Lance is saying softly, as if he can see the doubt written in her expression.  For that, she is grateful.  _ “We’ll stop by a port.  It’s under coalition control, so we’ll be fine there for a time.” _

  
  


“All right.”

  
  


\---

  
  


Her sleep cycle is creeping up on her when they finally arrive.  He suggests they find a place to rest and she realizes he’s just as tired, if not more so.  Humans must acquire sleep often, she thinks. He’s yawning when they find a decent enough place to sleep at the ports, leaving their Lions in the hangar nearby.  

  
  


The room is small with two beds stacked atop each other.  He childishly claims the top one and she rolls her eyes. There’s a window, overlooking the docking bay where they had entered with their Lions and Allura sits on the bottom bunk, watching as ships come and go.  What a spectacle they must have seemed like: two Lions of Voltron, drifting in the hangar to stay for a few vargas. 

  
  


He’s talking about how he used to sleep on bunk beds all the time on Earth.  He has siblings, quite a few, and Allura attempts to imagine him in a family unit.  He’d stand out, she’s sure. He’s different; loud and flirtatious at times, rough around the edges but shares soft laughter and is careful when it matters.  He’s quite an interesting companion. 

  
  


“I always wanted to be a pilot.  When I got to fly Blue, well, it felt like it was meant to be,” he shares.  

  
  


Allura stares up at the top bunk, lacing her fingers across her chest and wonders what his expression is right now.  She could stand, peek over and see but she’s tired. The stale, recycled air of this port doesn’t help. There’s a certain strain to his voice, something that covers the memories and barely dusts over them.  Allura thinks of her own; if his memories make him to be a pilot of Voltron, what of her? 

  
  


“What was the other paladin like?” 

  
  


She doesn’t mean to ask it, even if she speaks quietly.  She had wondered aloud and regrets it almost immediately.  The other paladin must have been something like Lance; joyful and loved by others.  But a gentle spirit. Much like the Blue Lion. But now she thinks she’s overstepped a line.  And what follows is silence.

  
  


He surprises her and she swears she hears a smile when he says, “Graceful.  Smart. Courageous. Meant to fly Blue. We were all a great team for awhile there.”

  
  


Her eyes dim and she’s staring up at that cot above hers, suddenly grateful he cannot see her reaction.  Allura keeps her tone even when she says, “I’ll try not to let them down---with whatever time I’m given.”

  
  


Lance is yawning again as he tells her, “Trust me, you’ll do just fine.”

  
  


She doesn’t want to do  _ just  _ fine.

  
  


\---

  
  


Before they leave, Lance is gathering supplies, buying things for their travel.  They’ll be in the Thyam System in one more quintant or two, so they’ve decided not to stop until then.  So she’s in the hangar, waiting on him as she checks the line connecting the shipment container to the Red Lion.  

  
  


She stands before Red, quietly admiring the design.  In some ways, she’s jealous of not getting to ride inside the cockpit.  There’s something about the Red Lion that mystifies her, tugs at that string inside her chest that led her to Blue.  Just slightly different. 

  
  


Placing her hand against the cool metal, she closes her eyes, breathes in.  

  
  


That string pulls harder and she feels a familiar  _ something _ curl inside.  It burns, scorching her blood and steals the oxygen from her lungs.  It means to draw her in, aggressively,  _ possessive _ .  There’s a figure that flashes behind her eyelids, though she can barely make it out.  She feels a name form on her lips but she cannot understand it. 

  
  


Allura snaps her hand away, gasping and stunned.  Her eyes gaze upon the Lion before her. 

  
  


Was that her or the Lion?

  
  


\---

  
  


When they reach the Thyam System, Allura throws up a screen with the traffic that they can spy on.  This is still warring territory. The battle almost a pheab ago has weakened Galran presence, though not enough.  They have to be on alert. Allura now is carrying the container with the Blue Lion, having switched under the pretense that the Red Lion would be better at warding off any enemy combatants.  

  
  


It occurs to her, in the time in between Lance speaking to her over the comms, he’s talking to the others.  He’s closed communications when talking with them and she can only assume it’s because he’d rather not have her hearing some things.  While she understands, it still reminds her that she could probably not ever fit in to this new team dynamic as much as he may wish. 

  
  


She’s pulling up their route when something forceful collides right into Blue.  The blast takes her by surprise, the screens displayed in front of her flickering before coming back online and she cries out.  She can  _ feel _ Blue take the hit and it sends all sorts of messages of alarm through her head.  

  
  


_ “Allura!”  _

  
  


Ensuring she still has the line secured, Allura attempts to dodge the incoming blasts headed her way.  There’s still nothing on her screen that shows where they originated from. Panic rises, lodged in her throat.  

  
  


“Lance, I don’t know where they are,” she says over the comms, “Do you see anything?”

  
  


_ “Negative, it’s like they’re comin’ outta nowhe---” _ Lance cuts himself off with a sharp cry as he’s hit with another blast and she’s calling out for him.   _ “I’m fine, I just can’t see ‘em.” _

  
  


Allura switches to naked vision, attempting to spot the perpetrators with her own eyes rather than what the system is telling her.  She searches the space, only spying the twinkle of stars and a few asteroids in the distance. 

  
  


“Cloaking?” Allura suggests.  

  
  


_ “Probably.  They’re toying with us too.” _

  
  


Blue takes another hit and Allura grits her teeth, diving down to evade anymore attacks.  She sees Lance maneuver the Red Lion in front of her, ready to shield her from anything else.  She’s the one who is carrying the container, so he’d have to fight while she tries to get away.  

  
  


_ “They can’t follow us.  We’ll lead them right to the rest of the group.” _

  
  


“So what  _ can  _ we do?”  Allura stresses, at a loss.  

  
  


_ “I don’t know but we---” _

  
  


He’s getting hit again and she hears him grunting in frustration.  Allura can only watch when the Red Lion fires its cannon in vain, hoping to hit an unseen target.  It doesn’t and she can tell Lance is growing impatient with this random attack. 

  
  


If they’re using cloaking, then there  _ has  _ to be a way to disable it, she realizes.  The tech would be simple to shut down with a simple shot, as cloaking would be the first line of defense.  Using cloaking usually means there’s not enough shielding for the ship. If Lance could only get a shot in.  

  
  


Something glows to her right, catching her eye.  She had noticed it before---a panel with something lodged within it.  Like a random control that would require her to turn for anything to happen.  But now it illuminates, as if answering her call. 

  
  


“What are you telling me?” she murmurs and loses her concentration when Lance is hit again with another attack.  Her eyes snap back to the panel with the odd and large switch attached to it. Allura takes a breath before she does what the Lion is attempting to tell her.  She places her hand over it and turns. “Lance, watch out!”

  
  


As soon as she turns and locks it in place, she feels overwhelmed.  A sensory overload of sorts. And then suddenly Blue lets out a deafening roar as sonic waves rip through the vacuum of space.  It causes her to tense and brace the controls. When she opens her eyes, there’s a spark in the distance. She zooms in on it, spies the electricity dancing over an object.  

  
  


_ Ah. _

  
  


The soundwaves from the Blue Lion were enough to trip whatever device is being used for their attacker’s cloaking.  But now they’re revealed. Allura gasps as the ship visibly charges towards the Red Lion. 

  
  


“Lance!” she shouts as a warning.  

  
  


_ “Got ‘em,” _ he returns and she watches as the Red Lion faces the ship dead on, the cannon aimed right for it.  When he fires the shot, it’s not at full power, she realizes, because it renders the ship useless. It’s not functional but whoever is piloting will be all right.  Faintly, she wonders if Lance does that often.  _ “Let’s get outta here before more of them find us.” _

  
  


“Right,” Allura responds, tapping a screen to her left, meaning to record the data on the ship before snatching up the line to the shipment and dragging it with her.  

  
  


_ “You unlocked Blue’s ability though.  Wow,” _ there’s some pride in his tone, directed to her and that makes her glance up, spying him on the commlink.  A broad smile is on his face, eyes softer than usual. Maybe it throws her off more than she’d like.  _  “Looks like you and Blue were meant for each other.” _

  
  


_ Meant to fly Blue _ , he had said about the other paladin.  The one before her. Allura blinks at him through the feed, unable to respond.  He seems to take the hint and cuts the video link and she’s left alone with her thoughts once more.  

  
  


\---

  
  


While Qoscilia is densely populated, the neighboring planets have some inhabitants.  With the recent battle, members of the coalition have taken up refuge in one of them.  Sauphus, a smaller planet that has raging storms most of the time, raining down carbon-based rocks.  Lance calls them diamonds when he explains where they’ll be going. The natives thrive underground, having built a civilization with these diamonds.  

  
  


When they enter the atmosphere, Lance throws the route over to her feed and she carefully follows.  Allura peeks at the surface of Sauphus and marvels at the sparkling land. Diamonds. She’s sure they’re called something else; must be an Earthling term.  There’s not a storm brewing when they fly in but there will be soon. Lance lands the Red Lion on the side of a cliff and she does the same. Built into the side of the ledge are enormous doors, glyphs carved into the sides.  As they open, Allura maneuvers the Blue Lion to drag the large container inside with her. 

  
  


As it turns out, it’s an entrance to a rather large hangar.  Rebel ships can be seen along the sides. Allura does her best to be careful and not nick any of them as Blue nudges the shipment container to an empty space.  When that’s parked in a decent place, Allura sets the Blue Lion next to Red, close by the doors of the hangar. It’s not until she exits the Blue Lion, walking along the ramp, she sees Lance waiting for her already.  

  
  


It strikes her, harder than it should.  He’s smiling at her, as if lost in thought, helmet tucked under his arm and hair ridiculously messy.  There’s the distant sound of heavy metal, scraping against the hangar’s floor, an engine whirring, shouts and calls.  But her senses narrow to see him watching her. It’s as if he doesn’t realize he’s doing it either. Her lips curve upwards, by some strange instinct, in what feels like a rather sheepish smile.  

  
  


He blinks and he’s averting his gaze, automatically bringing a hand behind his head, as if trying to fix the helmet hair.  Allura waits a tick before taking a few long strides to catch up to him, her own helmet in hand. 

  
  


“What happens now?” Allura asks because he’s suddenly silent.  

  
  


Lance turns his attention to her, like she’s just pulled him away from something important.  Startled but expectant all at once. She notes, not for the first time, how they’re nearly the same height.  She’s probably a hair taller, if anything. 

  
  


“Now,” he stresses, that grin finally returning to his features, “we go meet up with Team Voltron.”

  
  


Her heart beats faster.  “Shouldn’t we…?” A pause.  “Wait. For a formal---”

  
  


“They’re dying to see you,” Lance says, determined.  

  
  


Allura doesn’t respond.  Voicing her thoughts doesn’t seem to be appropriate right now.  Especially doubt soaked in misplaced insecurities. Instead she straightens her shoulders and raises her chin, nodding once.  However, her serious features dissolve away when he grabs her hand and tugs her through doors leading out of the hanger. 

  
  


“C’mon, let’s go,” he says with that same grin.  

  
  


And she lets him guide her through unpolished corridors, with the gleam beneath cosmic dust and grime.  Quietly, Allura observes the architecture, the underground city made of diamond and rock. Eventually, he releases her hand, the warmth lingering inside her palm.  But still she chases the feeling in her mind, a time when he had an arm around her shoulders, around powered guns and loud blasts. 

  
  


He throws a smile over his shoulder, a wink and she has to shake her head at him with a helpless chuckle.  He’s elated, excitement around his eyes. It’s something she’s seen a few times before with him, though it’s masked with a layer of thin seriousness.  He wears emotions in its rawest form, draping feigned ones like it’s enough. This--- _ this _ is Paladin Lance, overjoyed over small things.  

  
  


They make a turn and reach a structure built into an enormous chamber, its roof extending so far up, Allura’s sure it’s the top of the mountain they flew past.  All sorts of people pass by, flying up on jetpacks to other levels or dive below. It’s busy and almost unbelievable. Sauphus hides a wondrous city, intricate and made of a precious stone.  When she turns to tell Lance how beautiful it is, she catches him staring at her again. This time, she grins. 

  
  


“I never imagined such a place could exist,” she admits, “Thank you for bringing me here.”

  
  


“Nah, you did that.  You and Blue,” he tells her and he jerks his head in the direction of the large structure.  “Let’s head inside. This is where we’re set up.”

  
  


The guard at the door eyes her carefully but allows both of them through.  When it opens, Allura thinks she should have been more prepared. But as soon as she recognizes the matching suits standing right there in the open space.  Lance is walking forward without her, greeting his comrades loudly. But she’s still, blinking at each of their faces. 

  
  


There’s three of them.  Yellow, green and black.  They stand there, expectant when they exchange warm hellos with Lance.  She’s looking at him then, with some desperation, hoping he could sense it.  She knows he does when his face falls a bit, going back to her and a hand falls on her back with a gentle push.  

  
  


“Everyone, meet our new paladin.”

  
  


There’s that strange pride in his voice again. It’s easy to ignore when the other paladins are in their space.  The yellow one, human, tall and wide with an even wider grin approaches her. His eyes crease when he speaks. 

  
  


“So...you’re flyin’ Blue, huh?  I’m Hunk. I pilot the Yellow Lion, if you couldn’t tell by the get-up already.”

  
  


Allura’s shoulders fall as she returns the grin.  “Pleasure to meet you, Hunk.”

  
  


The green paladin moves forward, spectacles pushed up the bridge of her nose and she peers up at Allura with some wonder.  A slow half-smirk appears on their lips. Pale with light hair and striking amber eyes. “I’m Pidge. It’s good to see you.  I mean---it’s good to see someone finally get the Blue Lion moving.”

  
  


“A surprise but a nice one,” Allura murmurs.  Something passes through the green paladin’s features that she can’t place.  

  
  


“Yeah, um, this is Shiro.  He sometimes flies the Black Lion but Keith is usually heading up the team,” Paladin Pidge explains, gesturing to the man that stands a step behind the others.  “You’ll meet Keith eventually but he’s out doin’ a recon, so that’ll be later. Coran is---uh, he’s around. You’ll meet him too.”

  
  


Allura’s eyes fall upon the black paladin then.  If she hadn’t known better, she would have missed how his eyes softened right when she caught him staring, as if he’d been studying her every action.  Very faintly, she’s aware of Lance’s hand still on her back, almost like an anchor---for both of them. She raises her right arm, offering it to the man.  

  
  


Shiro has stark white hair, much like her own.  It’s kept short with an undercut and longer in the front.  When he smiles, it comes from a place she feels like she recognizes.  He takes her forearm as a greeting and it’s then she realizes it’s a prosthetic.  

  
  


“Welcome to homebase, Allura,” Shiro says.  

  
  


For a moment, she almost thought he would have left it at  _ ‘home’ _ .  

  
  


\---

  
  


“So the tech was only disabled with an array of high frequencies?”

  
  


“Yeah, it looked like it was the only thing keeping it protected too because one shot from Red and it was dead in the water.”

  
  


“Interesting.  Did you get any more data?  Hunk and I can look it over.  If we have its signature, we can install it onto our own systems so we can see them coming next time.”

  
  


“Uh…”

  
  


Briefings are nothing new to Allura.  With Thux and his crew, there is always a briefing before and after any given mission.  Written or not, everything has to be shared. She understands the importance, though mundane as it could be.  But briefings with the paladins of Voltron? It’s something else. It’s looking at the universe with a bigger scope, a wider view.  With rescue missions, it’s narrowly focused. This is a different scale altogether. 

  
  


It takes her a moment but she realizes there’s been a pause in the conversation.  She blinks and glances around the room, hands folded in her lap and sitting straight.  Everyone’s attention is on her. She snaps her gaze to Lance, almost helplessly. 

  
  


“Excuse me, I missed that,” she says to him, some embarrassment creeping up her neck.  

  
  


“Ah, the data on the guy with cloaking tech?”  Lance attempts, rather sheepishly. 

  
  


“Right,” Allura nods and looks at the green paladin pointedly.  “I was able to attain some information. It’s stored in the Blue Lion, if that helps.”

  
  


Pidge is grinning at her, brightly, as if Allura had given her a gift.  “More than helps. Thanks, Allura. I’ll be able to sync my system with Blue’s.  I’ve made a few changes since Blue was decommissioned but---” The paladin stops speaking then and blinks, as if remembering something.  “Um, anyway, that’s great.”

  
  


Allura doesn’t miss the round of dimmed looks everyone individually has.  She laces her fingers together and takes a deep breath. “Perhaps we could finish this some other time.”

  
  


“No problem,” Hunk is quick to stand, throwing a rather sympathetic look Lance’s direction.  “Pidge and I can take a look at the data and the device. You two should get some sleep.”

  
  


Shiro stands with them.  “It must have been a long journey from Olkarion.  We can discuss everything tomorrow.”

  
  


Everything is a broad subject, in this case.  And Allura truly doesn’t think she’ll be ready for that.  As they begin shuffling out, Allura remembers one thing. “If it’s not too much trouble, I would like to contact my crew.”

  
  


“Of course.  Pidge has a commlink that’s pretty secure, so that it’s undetected by any Galra tech,” Shiro returns, nodding towards the green paladin.  

  
  


“Thank you,” Allura says, relief finally settling upon her shoulders.  “It would be greatly appreciated.”

  
  


\---

  
  


The natives of Sauphus are humanoid, though their skin is quite pale and eyes large and ink black.  Cave dwellers, naturally adapting to a life underground. They welcomed the coalition with open arms, offering a place of refuge and a base for the sake of their neighboring planets.  From what Allura gathers, the paladins have been occupying this space for half a decapheab. 

  
  


Allura doesn’t venture out to explore the great city of Sauphus.  Instead, she finds herself shadowing Lance, which doesn’t seem to bother him.  The others had gone their separate directions and Lance is explaining some things here and there.  Pidge’s technical science while Hunk is an engineer. Shiro is generally the leader from the ground instead of the battlefield.  Coran overlooks the whole situation, offering his expertise on things of the universe they still don’t understand. 

  
  


“He’s an Altean, actually,” Lance says quietly as they roam the halls.  He’s looking at her in the corner of his eye and she can only cant her head curiously.  

  
  


“Aren’t they…?”  She doesn’t finish, allowing him to fill in the gaps.  

  
  


“Actually, there’s several.  But it’s---complicated,” he chuckles lightly and shrugs.  He stops before a door, its exterior made of the stone that covers the surface of Sauphus.  “Anyway, this can be your room. Let me know if you need anything.”

  
  


When it opens, Allura peeks inside, adjusting to the darkness of the room.  She could only guess it resembles the generic sleeping chambers on any given base.  Turning back to him, she catches the conflict that flickers across his eyes; she almost missed it.  

  
  


“What is it?”

  
  


He doesn’t react at first.  She thinks of taking that hand in hers once more, seeking its warmth.  Instead she catches her wrist, holding it to her side as she awaits his response.  He crosses his arms then, leaning against the wall next to the door. 

  
  


“We didn’t really talk about it---you being a paladin.  This life---it’s  _ a lot _ , Allura.  It’s taken a lot from all of us.  Whatever happens, when it comes down to it, it’s your choice.”

  
  


“The choice has already been made,” Allura finds herself saying and it comes from a place deep inside her, some place where that string had been tied close to her heart that led her to the Blue Lion.  It’s the same string that tugs at her now. “Back on Olkarion.”

  
  


“It’s more than that, All---”

  
  


“It would seem you are stuck with me, Paladin Lance,” and she’s smirking half heartedly, as if resigned, though humor laces her tone.  “I know you were hoping to rid of me sooner.”

  
  


He looks thrown for a tick.  And then he’s smiling, ducking his head and shaking it.  “Where’d you come from, Allura?”

  
  


Instead of answering, she offers a small wave before heading inside the room.  The door hisses shut and she sighs out, ready to fall into a slumber. 

  
  


\---

  
  


She’s known the void before.  

  
  


Its chaos, it’s violent pull and shove.  Its unforgiving bleakness. There’s nothing for her here, yet it’s the one place she feels most familiar.  It both cararesses and rips at her. Barbed lightning and vines of thorns. The rush of a harsh current and the burn of a flame.  

  
  


There are things she should recognize, she knows.  Things from  _ before _ .  Yet nothing means anything to her.  She falls, helplessly and she allows it with resignation.  She’s meant for the void. 

  
  


_ Not the stars?  _ she asks to the nothingness.  It does not answer. 

  
  


\---

  
  


He finds her sitting against the wall, next to her door.  She thinks he means well, as much as he can offer a stranger.  His demeanor reminds her a lot of someone she can’t recall. He holds a permanent joy, despite the sympathy within his gaze.  

  
  


Hunk, he introduced himself as.  He must not be in his sleeping cycle, like the rest of his crew.  Something tells Allura he runs on a different schedule than the other paladins.  

  
  


“Having trouble sleeping?”

  
  


She pulls her knees closer to her chest, holoscreen displayed in front of her as she mindlessly scrolls.  “It’s been a turbulent few quintants.”

  
  


“Yeah,” he sighs out, sliding next to her, back of his head resting on the wall.  “It’s been a little crazy lately.”

  
  


Allura stops scrolling and glances at him.  When she speaks, her voice dips lower than she means.  “Because of me.”

  
  


He shrugs with barely any effort, looking upwards.  “Because of you, because of the Galra, because of Zarkon, Sendak.  All sorts of things.” He turns to her with a lazy smile. “You’re keeping things interesting.”

  
  


She turns back to the scrolling, sifting through the information given.  Galactic news and updates. She’s not even reading, just passing the time.  “I am afraid my presence has shaken some members of your team.”

  
  


“Well, yeah.  But not for the reason you think,” Hunk offers softly.  

  
  


Allura closes her eyes, sees the Blue Lion back in the cave, sees Lance’s reaction, the disappointment there.  It had been only a few ticks until he accepted the shift but she understands his feelings. Understands a loss when it occurs.  She’s not sure why but she does. “I want to believe I was chosen for a reason. That I can play a part in restoring peace. But it all seems so...accidental.  As if the Blue Lion mistook me for someone else.”

  
  


There’s a long pause and she thinks that simply confirms her beliefs.  But when he speaks, something tightens in her chest. It’s tender and so welcome.  “You’re a paladin of Voltron, Allura. There is not one thing too great for you. Trust me, we’ve faced...a lot.  Every paladin has their own journey.”

  
  


Allura opens her eyes, stares blankly at the yellow paladin.  He’s still smiling right at her. Like the heat of a small star.

  
  


“Someone once told me that.  I’d like to think we can end this.  And now we’ve got you.”

  
  


She’s smiling too, faintly.  

  
  


“Hope you can rest, Allura.  Maybe you can tell me your story over some food.  They got some good grub on this planet.”

  
  


He’s getting up before she can say anything more.  When he’s out of her sight, Allura turns her attention back to the holoscreen.  Her finger hovers over Aran’s message, sent to her that night on Olkarion. When she had felt so betrayed and alone.  With one sigh, she taps it and a video pops up on the screen. 

  
  


Aran appears worn, tired and dismayed.  His black eyes are trained ahead, looking forward, determined.  When he speaks, she feels that string coil inside her chest. 

  
  


_ “Allura, I don’t mean this as a goodbye.  As your friend, I wish I could have said this in person but we’re ready to take off and…” _  His words wander off, and he’s averting his gaze.   _ “Captain didn’t tell us much.  Willow’s grace, he looks upset but he’s made his decision.  Said you’ll catch up with us, if you want to.” _  A pause and he’s looking back at the screen.   _ “You’re meant for bigger things, if Feivis showed us anything.  I hope one day we’ll get to see each other again. Please don’t forget us, Allura.” _

  
  


It ends there.  

  
  


Allura drops the screen and buries her head into her knees, eyes burning with tears she smothers.  

  
  


\---

  
  


When she wakes, it’s from a dreamless sleep.  Restlessness grips her and she dazedly moves about the sleeping chambers.  It’s a humble room, with all the necessities she needs. But the need to move around grows and she’s tossing her satchel over her shoulders, heading out into the gigantic corridors.  She follows it, quietly leaving the facilities the members of Voltron have taken refuge within. 

  
  


Her memory isn’t the best, she knows.  But she counts on it as she heads towards the hangars once again.  Coalition members, she’s sure, nod to her as she passes and she returns them as a greeting.  Her hair is a mess, strands falling out of the single braid she often keeps it in. Yet, she hasn’t the energy to fix it to be presentable enough for the people of Sauphus.  They don’t seem to mind, however. She speaks with a few for directs back to the hangar where the Lions reside. They’re welcoming and look at her with something she recognizes as admiration.  

  
  


When she gets to the hangar, some stop her for some questions.  A couple are native to the planet and some belong exclusively to the coalition.  They ask permission to log her flight or simply wonder about how she, a paladin, is doing today.  It throws her a bit, caught by the attention. They ask which Galra sector she belonged to before joining the rebels.  She can’t answer all of them honestly, for she doesn’t know some herself. But they’re not unwelcome. 

  
  


When she finds herself sitting next to the Blue Lion, she rests her head against its cold metal, thinks she can hear Blue sing a melody meant for her.  

  
  


The other two Lions are now on the other side of the hangar.  She thinks they might have been moved some time during the night.  The yellow and green paladins must have placed them there when syncing the data from the Blue Lion while she slept.  She remembers Hunk, headed in another direction and stopped what he was doing to speak with her. A kind soul, she thinks.  

  
  


Glancing up, Allura wonders aloud, “Why did you choose me?”

  
  


She hears the soft song of the Blue Lion, like a gentle current.  The string around her heart tugs her in another direction now but she doesn’t move to find out where it may lead.  Perhaps she knows where it will take her; to a warmth not meant for her.

  
  


\---

  
  


When she returns, voices flitter through the corridor.  There’s the conference room, where they had been before, during the briefing.  She only picks up the green paladin’s voice up first but it’s obvious there are others in the room too.  

  
  


“---she used the bayard and unlocked the Blue Lion’s ability not even a  _ week _ in being its pilot.  Are we seriously not going to talk about it?”

  
  


“We don’t know everything yet, Pidge,” that sounds a lot like Shiro, she thinks.  Calm, collected, and kind, despite his words. “After what happened with the colony, I think we need to consider the possibility that---”

  
  


“Don’t.”

  
  


There’s a silence after that and Allura’s almost certain who it had been.  Quietly, Allura draws closer against the wall, holding her breath. 

  
  


“Look, Lance, the Lions have been wrong before…  Remember what happened to me?”

  
  


“It’s different.  This isn’t Haggar, or tricks or whatever.  You weren’t there. You weren’t there the  _ first  _ time and you weren’t there on Olkarion.”

  
  


It’s spoken darkly and the air shifts.  Allura stares at the wall across the hall, waiting for anyone to respond.  She shouldn’t be listening to this---this is clearly a discussion for the paladins.  Yet, she stays against the wall, straining to hear.

  
  


“Lance,” Hunk.  “Buddy, I think we need to take a step back from everything.  Shiro’s just telling us not to get our hopes up. There’s no handbook on these things.  We don’t know what we’re dealing with here.”

  
  


“I’m with Lance on this.”  Pidge. “We  _ need _ Voltron to win this war.  If we have the Blue Lion, that means we can form Voltron and finally end this.  And we can go  _ home _ .”

  
  


“Let’s just hope for the best, okay?” Shiro offers and she can feel the tension in his tone.  “But we have to expect the worst.”

  
  


Allura closes her eyes briefly and turns away.  She can’t hear much after that, quietly making her way back to her room.  That string in her chest tugs the other way but she continues on.

  
  


\---

  
  


Lance quite literally drags her to the training grounds.  She doesn’t say much to protest but she’s glaring at him all the same.  He blatantly ignores it, seemingly intent to spend time with her. Part of her is grateful he had sought her out.  In truth, he’s the only one thus far she’s feeling comfortable around. 

  
  


Their time on Olkarion offered some odd comradery, she realizes.  He had felt lonely there too and she wouldn’t have been able to tell if she hadn’t followed him here to Sauphus.  Lance  _ thrives _ with others around him.  All smirks, deadpanned jokes, and a contagious energy.  

  
  


So they train and sparr for a better part of the day.  Hand-to-hand, staffs and run laps around the training grounds.  He runs out of breath too easily and she laughs at him when he collapses into a heap on the floor.  His response is to swipe at her feet with one sharp kick with his leg and she’s landing on her back right beside him.  With the wind knocked out of her, she stays there, feeling the tension in her muscles creep in. 

  
  


“I’m gonna be sore,” he remarks, wheezing.  “Let’s not do this for awhile.”

  
  


Allura rolls her head to the side to look at him with a smirk splayed across her lips.  Her eyes catch sight of something and she moves to touch his ear. He jerks away at the sudden touch.  

  
  


“What are you---?”

  
  


“Why are they shaped that way?” she pokes at him again and he’s batting her hand away.  “Round and hideous. Humans must be the only species with round ears.”

  
  


He’s staring at her then, looking shocked and wounded.  Allura tries desperately not to laugh at the expression.  But then he’s draping an arm over his face and chuckling, the sound delicate and breathy.  Confused, she reaches out once more but her fingers skim the hair that brushes over his ear, the line of his jaw.  

  
  


Lance uncovers his face then, watching her in the corner of his eye, as if he dares not move.  Her fingertips trail up again, lightly combing through the hair near his face. It’s then she meets his gaze, breathing shallow and mesmerized.  There’s something striking about his expression, a familiar conflict. She’d like to snatch it away from him, see what his conclusion would be. 

  
  


Instead, he closes his eyes and sighs out, “Never change, Allura.”

  
  


“There’s not much to change, I’m afraid.”

  
  


“You’d be surprised,” he answers.  

  
  


_ No,  _ she wants to say,  _ I don’t think I would be. _

  
  


\---

  
  


It’s near the end of the day when the paladin of the Black Lion returns.  Allura’s made aware when Lance is banging on her door. She’s washed up and dressed in an altered version of the outfits she had been given on Olkarion, her hair still damp.  When she opens the door, Lance is dressed in something else too; clothes she assumes reflect the fashion of Earth. 

  
  


He greets her with a huge grin.  She blinks. “Hey, we’re having a meeting.  Keith’s back.”

  
  


It becomes clear to her, rather quickly, that the meeting involves her addition to the team.  The moment they both step into the room, it falls quiet and all stares are directed at her. Under the scrutiny, she sees two new faces.  A young male with long black hair and a man with a mustache. Both don’t say a word and she stalls her movements until Lance grabs her wrist and leads her to sit down with him.  

  
  


“This is Keith,” Lance nods his head towards said male then gestures to the one with mustache.  “And this is Coran.”

  
  


Her gaze falls upon the man with light blue markings on cheekbones, lingering there.  He hasn’t taken his eyes off her, as if suspicious of her. She doesn’t blame him. It occurs to her that this is the Altean Lance spoke about.  He stands tall, adorned in a blue uniform. If she has to guess, his role on the team involves being an advisor, standing to the side of the group.  

  
  


“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” Allura tells them both.  

  
  


“We need to discuss what you’ll be doing here,” Keith states and the air shifts in the room.  Everyone’s attention on him as he directs his words pointedly at Allura. She couldn’t feel more small.  “If you’ve decided to stay, it means you’ve accepted being a paladin of Voltron.”

  
  


“Keith---” Shiro begins but is cut off.  

  
  


“We need to be able to trust you.  Can we count on you to fly the Blue Lion?”

  
  


Allura opens her mouth to answer a solid  _ yes _ but Shiro tries again.  

  
  


“Keith, I think we shou---”

  
  


“Can we trust you?” Keith demands, though it’s calm and cutting all at once.  It must be a hidden talent of his; this is why he’s the black paladin perhaps.

  
  


“Yes,” she finally answers, brow furrowed. 

  
  


There’s a tension in the air as they stare at each other.  Next to her, she feels Lance move slightly, his foot knocking against hers.  He’s uncomfortable and probably is unconsciously shifting closer to her. If Allura had more time (or the courage), she’d dissect what that means; why this paladin feels the need to be protective.  In her peripheral vision, Pidge and Hunk are giving each other looks and Shiro is frowning. But she keeps her eyes steady on Keith. There’s a clear unbalance of power dynamics in this team; Shiro is stated to be the leader, though Keith seems to push for certain decisions.  She’d like to understand where  _ that _ stems from.  

  
  


It makes her uncomfortable for more than a few reasons and she can’t name them all.  Something coils in the pit of her stomach and she unconsciously laces her fingers together, a little too tightly.  

  
  


“What sector are you from?”

  
  


“I don’t know.”

  
  


“Where were you raised?”

  
  


“I don’t know.”

  
  


“What is your parentage?”

  
  


“I---Galra and something---”  (A lie, blanetly so.)

  
  


“Why did you join the coalition?”

  
  


“For the sake of others---”  (It’s true.)

  
  


“When did you join?”

  
  


“Two decapheabes---”

  
  


“Why did---?”

  
  


“Enough!”

  
  


The shout comes from her side and when she looks, Lance has his eyes trained on Keith, glaring darkly at the paladin.  She holds her breath as they share a look. Uneasiness tenses her shoulders and she thins her lips. 

  
  


The line of questioning is something she had expected, honestly.  She hadn’t expected the venom in the words, however. There’s something strangely personal about it all and she feels as if there’s a big piece to this she’s missing.  Something she can’t pick up on. 

  
  


“That’s enough, Keith,” Lance stands then.  

  
  


Keith says in an even tone, “How can we trust her when we don’t know anything about her?”  Then he looks back to Allura. “Do you even know anything about yourself?”

  
  


No.  No, she truly doesn’t.  All she understands is a chaotic void, a deafening roar and a strange warmth that stands next to her now.  Anything she’s ever wanted to know is the stars, have them surround her, instead of this blankness that fills her being.  It’s an odd thing, this desire. For it tugs at her, tied in knots around her heart, somewhere buried deep. 

  
  


She glances down at her hands, unlaces them and stares at the empty palms.  “I remember---darkness.”

  
  


The stares on her feel almost tangible but she doesn’t look up to see.  Instead, closes her eyes, pictures herself in that void. What a terrible place.  

  
  


“Before...there had been nothing.  I know there had been  _ something _ , I just don’t remember it.”

  
  


“Allura, you don’t have to---” 

  
  


Lance is cut off by Keith.  His tone is accusing suddenly and she jerks her head to look.  “Do you work for Haggar?”

  
  


“Who---?  I worked for Captain Thux, under his command, I extracted re---”

  
  


“We need Voltron but we won’t have a spy infiltrate us again,” Keith warns her.

  
  


Again.  

  
  


It dawns upon Allura this isn’t a meeting anymore.  It’s an interrogation, led by Keith and the rest of them are unwilling participants.  She’s not trusted. She hasn’t been trusted the moment she set foot on Sauphus. Probably far before that.  The realization is like ice, sharp and jagged against her skin. And the worst part is, she doesn’t blame them.  

  
  


This all happened by accident, she wants to tell him.  She hadn’t meant to take another’s place as the Blue Lion’s pilot.  It’s clear that person is dearly missed. Mourned. Even now, and she stands as a stark reminder of what they’ve all lost.   _ That’s _ what Lance felt when the Blue Lion accepted her.  A stranger, a nobody. Someone who had heard the call, someone who wasn’t their friend.  And that’s the look Keith has on his face right now. Keith, the black paladin, had lost someone too and he’s not afraid to voice it.  She feels helpless. Doesn’t want to defend herself, the position she’s been placed in. 

  
  


Lance shifts his footing, standing between Keith and Allura.  “This is over. The Blue Lion picked her.”

  
  


“The Lions have been wrong before,” Keith answers.  

  
  


A wash of anger comes over her then.  To have that said aloud is enough. Her insecurities spoken to everyone in the room from the leader of Voltron warps into a sickening fury.  Allura stands abruptly, bumping shoulders with Lance. 

  
  


“If it’s too much of a burden to this team, then  _ have your Lion _ .  I don’t want it.  This has all been a mistake.”

  
  


Lance is calling her name when she storms out of the room but she doesn’t respond.  

  
  


\---

  
  


She sits on the high rise, legs dangling off the edge and she leans over the railing.  It’s been a couple vargas since the meeting and she’s traded her outfit for her space suit, satchel hanging from her left shoulder loosely.  Defeat quwells deep within her, a feeling she’s beginning to understand more and more. She thinks it feels too familiar, as if she’s meant to be associated with surrender, as much as it stings.  

  
  


Hollow footsteps approach and she closes her eyes, hoping with all her heart it’s not Lance.  For whatever reason, he’s stuck by her all this time. Since that day on Qoscilia, since visiting her the night in the hospital, looking at her lost and she had been what he’d searched for.  Even now, it seems odd, this attachment they share. She wants to rid herself of it; Thux had been the only other link to something real. Her desire to be among the stars kept her distant otherwise, a wish too great for the universe.  It gave her a Blue Lion and a title undeserving instead. 

  
  


“Have you no other place to be?” she asks quietly, softly.  

  
  


“About ten other places, actually,” the voice next to her says and Allura snaps her gaze to see the green paladin.  Pidge offers her a lopsided grin, the disarming type and Allura can only blink in response. “But I thought I’d stop by, see if you ran away yet.”

  
  


That defeat trickles back and Allura turns her attention back to the hangar, eyes landing on the Blue Lion.  “Is it that obvious?”

  
  


“Kinda.  You made it seem like you were gonna take off.”

  
  


“It’s a realistic option.”

  
  


“So is staying,” Pidge counters lightly.  

  
  


When Allura looks her way, the paladin is smiling over at the Blue Lion, leaning back.  She looks relaxed, just sitting there next to her. Allura frowns. “You’re here to change my mind?”

  
  


“Not really,” she says with a shrug.  “I know better than anyone that no one can really change your mind.  Just slightly persuade.”

  
  


“You want me to stay.”

  
  


“I want you to  _ want  _ to stay,” Pidge clarifies, throwing another uneven smile her way.  “It’s not an ideal situation. We lost someone we loved a while ago.  And then you show up and we all thought we moved on. Thought we could finish the fight without Voltron.”

  
  


“But you can’t trust me,” Allura emphasises because it’s the truth.  

  
  


“Lance trusts you and while that would have meant little years ago, it means a lot now,” she explains, sighing deeply.  “He’s changed a lot. We all have. We were just kids when this all started. All I wanted was to find my family and then I just wanted to end the war.”

  
  


Allura’s brow furrows and she averts her gaze, back to the Blue Lion.  Lance told her something about that. The green paladin’s journey in finding her father and brother.  Back on Olkarion, Allura got small snippets of their adventures. She feels like those stories have more context than he offered.  

  
  


“I know you want to end this war too, Allura,” she says and it strikes somewhere in the center of her chest, “You could have done anything after you woke up from wherever you came from.  But you picked our side. You risked everything to save people from the Galra. That means something.”

  
  


“Does it?” Allura counters, her voice dipping low with doubt.  “I fear it’s the same thing that casts suspicion.”

  
  


“Not to me.  Not to Hunk. And  _ especially  _ not to Lance.  Shiro, Coran and Keith will come around.  They blame themselves for our friend’s death, even if they won’t say it.  It’s not something they’ll get over any time soon.”

  
  


“The Altean,” Allura murmurs, watching for Pidge to react, “He hadn’t said anything in the room.  He doesn’t trust me either?”

  
  


There’s a softness to her eyes, some dismay flickering over them before she answers.  “Give it some time. Give this a chance. Ride with us and see how it goes. If you wait around, worrying about what could go wrong, you’ll miss a chance to do something great.”

  
  


Allura swears that sounds familiar.  It brings forth a smile along her lips and she feels it reach her eyes.  “Then let us not miss that chance.”

  
  


The hangar’s lighting suddenly dips into a red hue and both of them jump, startled.  They scramble to stand and Allura darts her attention around the large bay area. A holoscreen appears on Pidge’s wrist, a familiar face displayed on it.  

  
  


_ “Sauphus’ moon is being attacked---we gotta get to our Lions,” _ Hunk says through the comm.  

  
  


“We’re way ahead of you.  Allura and I are in the hangar now.  Meet you up there,” Pidge returns and looks right at Allura, determined.  “Looks like you’ll get your chance sooner than later.”

  
  


_ I could say no.  Right here, right now.  Leave it. Go find the crew that left me behind.   _

  
  


Allura stares at the young woman before her and then to the Blue Lion that stares from across the hangar, as if waiting for her to answer.  She grits her teeth until they ache, meeting Pidge’s eyes. This is her crossroads and she has to make the descion now. That string in her chest coils tight, lungs caught still.  She nods. 

  
  


Pidge smirks and nods back.  “Let’s head out!”

  
  


\---

  
  


There’s a storm raging when they take off.  Pidge explains the debris will only scrape against their Lions; it won’t harm them.  When they break the atmosphere and head out into space, Allura throws up a screen, searching the map for enemy combatants in real time.  Pidge is talking over the comms, something about how Sauphus’ moon is meant as a small port; a rest stop of sorts for travellers, coming to or from Qoscilia.  

  
  


_ “They’ve attacked the port before but this---it’s a whole fleet!”   _

  
  


The alarm in Pidge’s tone doesn’t escape Allura and she’s growing anxious by the tick.  She’s right; by what she sees on the radar, it’s a battleship and its drones are headed towards them.  It’s almost as if they were sent to flush out the paladins. It’s not the wildest theory and if they’ve attacked before, that means they know the Lions reside in the area.  

  
  


Allura flies beside the Green Lion, watching as several ships charge towards them.  Her grip on the handles tighten, unsure of how to proceed. She’s used to violence firsthand and that’s often defensive measures.  She’s used to stealth, groundwork. She knows supply lines, safest routes to take. This is--- _ directly  _ placing herself into the fire.  

  
  


There’s a soft melody again.  All her senses drown out and she listens to it.  She thinks Pidge is saying something over the comms, feels the blast against Blue that’s shot at her, knows there’s so many other things to worry about.  But she  _ listens _ .  So when she opens her eyes, it’s not her vision she sees.  It’s the Lion’s. 

  
  


“Pidge, flank right,” Allura says over the comm.  

  
  


_ “You mean---?  Get outta the way?” _

  
  


“Now!” 

  
  


The Green Lion vanishes from sight and Allura pushes forward, past the ships that had been headed their way.  A tick later, they’re in flames, having been ripped in half by the jawblade. Allura swivels back and can  _ feel _ the roar that tears through Blue.  The cannon whirls and fires off, eliminating the stragglers.  

  
  


Turning back, Allura turns to see the Green Lion fighting off the ships that had strayed too far off, out of Allura’s reach.  She hears Pidge grunt when one blast gets past her defenses and instinctively rushes to assist her. 

  
  


_ “Allura, the cannon---we have to disable it!” _

  
  


“What about you?” 

  
  


_ “I’ll be fine!  We need to make sure they don’t fire that cannon!” _

  
  


She’s lost Blue’s vision then, dissolving back to her own.  Resistance twitches in her muscles, ready to help Pidge. But she swerves around, heading for the battleship.  How is she supposed to take out a whole ion cannon? Destroying a few sentry-driven ships is one thing but a Galran battleship?  That’s a whole different situation. Even in a Lion. 

  
  


Allura cries out when another battleship jumps from hyperspace, right above her.  Her stomach lurches and she doesn’t breathe. 

  
  


_ “Uh...guys?  We could use some help.” _

  
  


_ “On our way.  Hunk’s communicating with the people on the port.  They’re evacuating right now,” _  Keith pops up on her screen.   _ “What’s the situation?” _

  
  


“Two battleships.  We took most of the fleet down,” Allura explains.  

  
  


_ “They’re firing up the ion cannon, guys!”  _  Pidge is on her screen then, throwing her own visuals to all of them.  

  
  


“They’re aiming it for the port,” Allura breathes out.  “They’re not going to make it out.”

  
  


_ “Hunk!”   _ Lance yells over the comms.  

  
  


_ “On it!” _

  
  


Before anyone can say anything else, Allura watches as the Yellow Lion shoots straight for the battleship, ramming right into the cannon.  It’s superficial damage but enough to slow it down. Allura turns her attention to the port on the moon, zooming in to see the status of the people.  They won’t be able to reach Sauphus, not within the storm. Their only option is to flee the other direction. The ships aren’t fast enough for it. The only solution is to eliminate the threat altogether.  

  
  


The Red Lion flies beside her and she watches as the Black Lion speeds ahead, aiming for the second fleet.  Allura thinks about breaking the line of defense, ready to protect the port as they evacuate but Keith’s voice says over the comms,  _ “Now would be a great time to form Voltron.” _

  
  


There’s a blast over the comms and Hunk says,  _ “Yeah, the captain over there says they’re just barely getting everyone aboard the ship.” _

  
  


A growing anxiousness blooms in her chest.  They’re expecting Voltron. She barely just got used to Blue.   _ Voltron _ .  The defender of the universe.  How is supposed to figure  _ that _ out?  

  
  


The second battleship begins charging its ion cannon.  Allura zooms in on the port again and some relief washes over her when she sees the ships taking off.  But---they  _ need _ to take down that second cannon.  If she could figure out a way to disable it---

  
  


\---one of the ships.  Allura’s eyes widen in fear.  She recognizes it immediately.  

  
  


“No…”

  
  


_ “Allura---watch out!” _

  
  


She barely rips her gaze away to see the Red Lion jump in front of her, watches as the blast pushes Red into Blue and she grunts at the jolt.  A tick later, she realizes what had just occurred. 

  
  


“Lance---”

  
  


_ “I’m good,”  _ he pops up on her screen,  _ “You?” _

  
  


“I’m---” 

  
  


She cuts herself off, eyes widening as the ion cannon redirects its aim.  Right at the fleeing ships. They can’t duck into Sauphus’ atmosphere, can’t do anything but run.  She can’t breathe again. Allura knows exactly who is on one of those ships. Knows the crew, knows the Captain’s name.  

  
  


Thux.

  
  


“No!”  

  
  


Allura pushes Blue as fast as possible, hears Lance and Pidge yelling at her over the comms, but she’s already halfway there.  When she collides right into the barrel of the ion cannon as it fires off, the sound ripping through space. Gasping for breath, Allura checks the visuals on the ships, sees that they’re all right and hunches over with relief.  The cannon had misfired enough.

  
  


_ “They’re just gonna keep going for them,”  _ Keith shows up on her screen.  He looks tired, she thinks faintly.  Worn.  _ “We need Voltron.” _

  
  


“How…?” she tries, knows it sounds meek, small.  

  
  


_ “If Blue chose you,”  _ his voice drops a little, into something softer, as if he knows,  _ “you’ll know.” _

  
  


She stares at him through the screen, listens to the static of his comm.  Keith’s staring right back, as if he’s looking at someone else. It’s nothing like how Keith had looked at her before, in that conference room.  This is someone else he’s talking to.  _ She’s _ someone else.  

  
  


A blast in the distance breaks the eye contact and she jolts up in her seat.  Pidge is screaming something over the comms, her voice breaking. And then Allura realizes why.  One of the fleeing ships had been shot down. Allura searches the few ships for the one she knows, finds it.  He’s still all right. Thux and the crew are still alive. 

  
  


_ “We gotta protect them!” _  Lance shouts at them all.  

  
  


Before she can register what’s she’s doing, Allura’s pushing Blue again, heading straight for the ships.  The Black Lion is already headed in the direction and she spies the Green and Yellow Lions on its left. The Red Lion whizzes past her, much faster than Blue.  Allura strains to keep up, rushing towards the rest. 

  
  


She closes her eyes tightly, silently pleading with the Blue Lion.  Those are her people on those ships. The same ones that dredged her from that darkness, the only ones she’s known after the void.  And now they’re about to die without her. 

  
  


_ “They’re firing the cannon again!”  _

  
  


_ “Keep steady,”  _ Keith hisses.  

  
  


Allura grips the handles until her knuckles hurt.  That string around her heart tightens and tugs away from her, taunt and straight.  

  
  


_ “We’re not gonna get there in time!” _

  
  


_ “Steady!” _

  
  


Blue’s melody drifts in the cockpit.   _ I hear you.   _ Allura snaps her eyes open.  

  
  


And then all she sees is white.  

  
  


\---

  
  


“Juniberries smell the sweetest of all.”

  
  


There are ceruleum skies above her, wisps of white clouds painted across it.  And where she lays, a bed of flowers, inked with crimson, an aroma she swears she knows.  It encases her, makes her think  _ home _ .  

  
  


“You  _ are  _ home, dear.”

  
  


This time, she glances over to the source of the voice.  He sits next to her in armor, white and gold. Russet skin, pale blue eyes and stark white hair.  Older, she thinks. There’s a gracious smile upon his lips and she thinks about how one could direct that her way.  

  
  


“Am I?” she finds herself questioning, sitting up to lean back.  

  
  


He hums, averting his gaze, though the smile stays.  “If only for a little while.”

  
  


“I am dreaming,” she states plainly.  

  
  


“In a fashion, yes.”

  
  


“And who are you to me?”

  
  


His gaze falls upon her then and she feels pinned by it.  He’s important, someplace, somewhere. He must be. At least, to her, in another life.  

  
  


“Oh, Allura,” he says to her, “the question is who are  _ you _ ?”  

  
  


His eyes fall to her hands.  She frowns, following his gaze.  Where indigo should be is replaced by the same russet brown that matches his.  She stretches her fingers in disbelief, feeling panic rise within her. 

  
  


“I don’t---”

  
  


“Come home, Allura.”

  
  


“I--- _ wait _ !”

  
  


\---

  
  


Faintly, she hears them.  

  
  


Everything’s muffled.  Her senses are dulled, beyond her reach.  She’s floating, she thinks, adrift. 

  
  


There’s a voice she recognizes almost immediately.  It’s louder than the rest or perhaps that’s just her.   _ Lance. _  Grin, blue, warm.  He’s saying something but she doesn’t pick up the words.  It sounds urgent, maybe. Like there’s something important, something she’s missing but can’t bring herself to do it.  

  
  


It takes a few ticks but she gets her bearings.  The Blue Lion. She’s in the cockpit and it’s moving.  But she’s not moving Blue. It’s something else. It’s---

  
  


_ Voltron. _

  
  


It hits her all at once and it’s like a sensory overload, overwhelming her.  She wants to shut off all the comms, close her eyes. She’s snapping up in her seat, gripping the handles with newfound awareness.  The small screen over one of the panels displays the vitals of each moving part of Voltron. Another shows her what’s happening in real time and---

  
  


\---oh.  They’re winning.  

  
  


She missed the first battleship’s fall when she was out.  But she’s aware enough to heed Keith’s order for thrusters and she pushes Blue to obey.  Voltron slices through the hull of the battleship with its sword, leaving fire and destruction in its wake.  When that’s done, the rest of the fleet is demolished into nothingness when Voltron’s cannon fires off, only debris left for evidence the Galra had ever been there.  

  
  


When it’s over, Allura pulls up a screen of where the ships had been, the innocent people fleeing the port.  They’re off in the distance and part of her wants to hail down a certain ship, see their faces and ask if they’re all right.  But she knows better. Now is not the time. 

  
  


_ “We did it,”  _ she hears Pidge murmur into the comms,  _ “Voltron’s back.” _

  
  


\---

  
  


When they return, Allura barely has time to hop out of the Blue Lion and onto the high rise when she’s suddenly engulfed in a rather bone crushing hug.  She wheezes for breath within the embrace, flailing to escape and registers it’s Hunk. 

  
  


“You did it!” he’s exclaiming.  

  
  


And then someone else is jumping on both of them.  Pidge. She’s laughing, burying her face into what little space is between Allura and Hunk.  “First try too! I can’t believe it!”

  
  


Someone else decides to join in, knocking all of them to the metal floor of the high rise and they all groan, though it quickly dissolves into laughter.  Lance. He’s laying atop the heap of paladins with that stupid grin. When they all roll off, Allura stays on her back, recovering from the onslaught of affection.  A hand is offered to pull her up. He’s staring at her with something much like pride and it feels contagious. 

  
  


When Lance pulls her up, it feels too close, as if they’d never been in each other’s space before.  He doesn’t back away and she stays where she is. When he speaks, it’s softer, quiet. Like he doesn’t want the others to hear it; just for her.  “Told you---you were meant to fly Blue.”

  
  


There’s a not-to-discreet cough behind Lance and she peers over her shoulder to spy the leader of Voltron standing there.  Helmet hanging loosely from his left hand and a smirk on his face. Strange, she thinks, because she’s only ever gotten to see one expression on his features and that’s a dark scowl.  It fits, oddly enough. And it’s directed right at her. 

  
  


“You did good out there,” Keith offers.  

  
  


“Better than good---we got Voltron back, baby!” Hunk raises a hand in the air, which Pidge comically jumps to slap with her own.  Hunk gives her a disapproving look. “That was for Allura.”

  
  


As the two begin walking off, bickering about something completely unrelated, Keith begins to depart in the other direction.  She turns to Lance and, well, she shouldn’t be surprised. But she is. Every time she catches him staring right at her. He doesn’t avert his gaze this time, however.  And she finds that they never did move away from each other, still too close. 

  
  


“So you’re staying,” he says it like it’s a fact, though hopeful all at once.  It’s the most endearing thing she’s heard. 

  
  


“I believe so,” is all she can respond with.  All she can confirm for him. Promises, as she’s learned, are terrifying things in this universe.  And to break one means to never witness that stupid grin again. 

  
  


And this mission is bigger than one individual.  Bigger than her confusion and conflict. 

  
  


“Thanks,” he tells her, “For staying awhile longer.”

  
  


When they move away to walk back, Allura swears that invisible string tugs at her again.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I swear everything will be explained in later chapters. Thanks for reading thus far.


End file.
